A Little Off Track
by GingerWitchWriter
Summary: Now that it's just the two of them at home again, with Hugo off to Hogwarts with Rose, Hermione is concerned about Ron's sudden quietness and seemingly lack of interest in her. Is their marriage in trouble or is something else bothering him?
1. Chapter 1

_So, I asked the registered reviewers who left reviews to the last chapter of my last story to vote for which story I should post next, and this was the winner from those that replied. Btw, those other 2 synopsis' I gave will get posted as well eventually._

 _I hope you like this. It kind of developed in my head from those comments made a couple of years back by JK Rowling and Emma Watson about Ron and Hermione perhaps needing marriage counselling at some point and started the whole drama of the stories of her saying she regretted putting them together. And then I was listening to the Pink! song 'Just Give Me A Reason', and this wrote itself almost. So, this is my idea of, if they ever did have problems, how it might play out._

 _This story will pretty much ignore anything that happens in The Cursed Child as it works along the same time line to that...and because, even though I loved seeing it on stage (and will no doubt enjoy seeing it again in March) I don't care for that story much at all._

 _That being said...on with the show._

 _Rated M for later chapters._

 _My usual disclaimers apply (available on my profile)_

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

"'Morning," I greeted Ron as I joined him in the kitchen for breakfast. "Chicken," I cringed, as I did every time I had to utter our owl's ridiculous name, "just returned with some post." I deposited the said items onto the kitchen table.

"Anything from the kids?" he asked, lowering one corner of the day old newspaper he was reading.

"No," I turned to look at him. "Just today's paper, your Quidditch monthly and a reminder for me about a book I ordered," I replied whilst pouring myself a bowl of muesli.

"Oh," he muttered, returning to his newspaper, uninterested.

I rolled my eyes and suppressed a tired sigh as I sat opposite him at the table and gazed at the newspaper my husband hid behind. "Anything interesting in there?" I asked after a few minutes of silence between us, save the crunching of food or the slurping of tea.

"Not really," he grunted, giving up on it as he folded the paper up and picked up his new magazine to glance through instead.

I continued to eat my breakfast and poured myself some tea from the pot, all the time re-reading the headlines on the front of his magazine – the only thing I could see facing me. Finally, he slurped down the last of his tea, grimacing when he discovered it had gone cold and stood up, checking his watch.

"Damn! I'd best be off. Promised Verity I'd open up this morning. See you later love." He bent and pressed a chaste kiss against my cheek and headed for the floo to Disapparate to work at the shop.

I watched him go and finally gave in to a long, rather drawn out, wistful sigh, wondering where my loving, fun, affectionate husband had gone. For the past couple of weeks I had sensed him drifting away from me, retreating into himself almost and I didn't know why. Things seemed to have become rather stale between us, stuck in an unpleasant rut and I wasn't sure when it had begun or even how long it had been going on for.

The summer had been busy for us. We'd spent a lovely, fun filled holiday away with the children – first visiting their Uncle Charlie in Romania for a couple of days and then on to a concealed island in Greece where the entire community was Magical. It was un-plottable to Muggles and allowed us to enjoy some free time in the sun. Once we got home it had been a whirlwind of getting Hugo ready for his first year at Hogwarts and Rose set up to begin her third year.

So, it was only now that both children were away at school and it was just the two of us again for the first time in over 13 years, that I had time to really look at our relationship and realise something wasn't right. I couldn't put my finger on what the issue was, but I knew we weren't the same couple we used to be.

Don't get me wrong, my feelings for Ron hadn't changed at all. I was just as much in love with him today as I was the day I'd married him. But, it was a more grown up kind of love these days - not the giddy, all consuming, butterfly feelings from younger years when we couldn't get enough of one another. That's not to say that he didn't still give me those feelings from time to time – he only had to look at me a certain way sometimes and my heart would flip again.

But, I had begun to wonder recently whether he still felt the same about me? What if he was giving up or having doubts? What if I wasn't enough for him any more? I think my heart would break if he left me – I couldn't imagine my life without him in it. After more than 15 years of marriage and a lifetime together before that, how was I supposed to go on if he didn't want this anymore?

I inhaled deeply and was startled to realise I was crying. This was so typical of me – I had imagined the worst case scenario and let my imagination run away until something that was only a thought became very real to me. It was something that often caused stress in my life and then Ron would laugh at me for getting upset about something that hadn't even happened. After which, he'd comfort me, talk me out of it, make me see I was being ridiculous and somehow make it all okay.

Right now though, I didn't have Ron around to make me see sense. Instead, the only other living creature currently in the house flew over and sat before me, perched on the back of one of the kitchen chairs. He hooted at me dolefully and blinked his eyes. "Hey Chicken," I murmured and stroked the back of my finger down the soft plumes of his chest.

The owls name was so ridiculous and embarrassing, though at the moment it was making me smile as I thought of my husband and his silliness. The name had started off as a joke. After we brought the new owl home and the kids were arguing over what to name him, Ron had told them about how Ginny had named his first owl Pigwigeon. They thought this was hilarious – even though they'd heard the story numerous times before. Jokingly, Ron had said they might as well name this one something like chicken, since he'd already had a pig and a six year old Hugo went with it, refusing to call the bird anything else. After a while, the owl wouldn't answer to anything else either, so we were stuck with a handsome bird who had a totally absurd name.

Chicken hooted at me again. "Sorry, I expect you want a treat," I realised, summoning the jar over and pouring out a handful of owl treats for him. He happily ate them as he allowed me to stroke him again, whilst contemplating on when I'd lost that fun loving, silly, loveable, affectionate husband. This current version seemed too miserable and distant to be the same one I'd married.

How long had things been like this before I'd stopped to take notice? When had we stopped really communicating with each other? That little exchange of words this morning had become the norm for us and it hurt to realise we barely spoke any more. We used to lie in bed together or cuddle up anywhere, spending hours chatting about everything – childhood memories, our most elaborate dreams, shared naughty fantasies and where we saw ourselves in the future. And even in those times when we were silent, I felt content to simply be with him, his head in my lap or mine in his as I read a book or we listened to the radio. We didn't always need words to communicate how we felt…but we didn't seem to even have that anymore. How had we drifted into this rather stale, apparently unhappy marriage? That wasn't the future I had envisioned during our chats.

I couldn't actually remember when we'd last spent any quality time together as a couple. When had we last gone out to dinner together or just enjoyed some time alone? I know things weren't the same once you became a parent, priorities had to change, but at the expense of neglecting one another? Even my birthday last month had been a bust. Oh, I hadn't expected anything grand, I knew it wasn't all about fantastic gifts or parties. But, it had been my 40th and dinner out might have been nice. I suppose at least he hadn't forgotten - I had been greeted that morning by a lovely card and a sweet kiss. The kids had even remembered, sending me hand made cards and a gift voucher for Flourish and Blotts that I knew Ron would have purchased for them to give me. And, later, when Ron came home that night he had presented me with a beautiful bouquet of flowers. But, we hadn't done anything different, no romantic dinner by candlelight, no date – nothing. Just another average, quiet night at home, each doing our own thing. Together and yet miles apart.

As for our sex life, or lack of it, I hadn't a clue when either of us had last attempted to instigate anything beyond the odd kiss and a cuddle. Of course, I knew that a busy lifestyle and parenthood tended to put a dampener on that part of your life - it wasn't always easy to find a peaceful moment alone to get into the mood without being interrupted by little hands knocking on the door. But we had once been such passionate people, making love daily all over the house, especially before the children had come along. Whilst I was under no illusion that sex was the all essential factor of a marriage – I'm sure many couples got along just fine without it - it had been important to me, something special and almost sacred between us. I had always thought of it as an extension and an expression of our love for one another, it let me know he found me attractive and desirable and it was something we'd both always enthusiastically enjoyed. How had we gone so long without it?

Was the fact that neither of us were making an effort with one another a bad sign for our relationship? Was he no longer attracted to me? Didn't he love me anymore? It was silly really, because there was still a part of me, buried deep down, that felt as though I wasn't good enough for Ron. That he should be with someone more glamorous or sexier and I was undeserving of his love. Ron displaying affection and being intimate with me always managed to reaffirm that, to him, I was more than enough – I was exactly who he wanted. Now, without that reassurance, I was starting to doubt myself again.

Maybe we'd just forgotten who we were as people. We'd spent the last 13 years or more being parents. Our lives had revolved around Rosie and Hugo and their needs so much that we didn't know how to be a couple anymore, how to simply be Ron and Hermione rather than Mum and Dad. Had we forgotten our promise to put one another first and started taking each other for granted? Perhaps this was something every parent went through when the children left home, the empty nest syndrome I had heard people talk about. And maybe, what we were experiencing was just a very normal little blip we'd get over.

At least, I hoped so. But then I couldn't be sure if things started going downhill when Hugo left or if the problems had been there before? I did know one thing, that I was determined to work out where we were going wrong so that I could fix it and get my husband back and our marriage back on track. Whatever was currently going on, I knew we could learn to be in love again, I had faith in us.

Chicken finished his treats and startled me as he took flight, heading for his cage for a well deserved nap no doubt. As he flew out the kitchen window, I caught sight of the time on the clock and realised I was going to be late for work. I jumped up, casting a few spells around the room to wash our pots and tidy the kitchen. And, as I went to grab my shoes and bag to head to work, I made a pledge to myself to let my husband know how much I still loved him – I figured that was a good place to start.

Ron wasn't just my husband or father to our children - he was also my best friend and I was not going to lose him!

* * *

"Hermione! Over here!" Ginny waved me over to where she was sitting at a table in the corner of the Muggle café. The same café we had been meeting in for lunch at least once a week after we had both completely finished with maternity leave.

Unfastening my coat, I dodged tables and baby buggies as I made my way over to her. "I am so sorry I'm late," I apologised, slipping my coat off and hanging it over the back of the chair. "Every time I tried to leave my office, someone else came in with a problem," I sighed as I finally sank into the chair gratefully, tossing my bag onto the floor beside me.

"That's what happens when you become Ms Successful-head-of-the-department!" She laughed, cradling a large mug of coffee against her lips. "Besides, I've only been here a few minutes myself," she shrugged and set her cup down in order to pick up the menu to peruse.

I laughed and picked up my own menu. "I don't know why we bother looking, we order the same thing every week!" I huffed, realising that was something else that had been stagnant in my life. Had I just become old and boring? Predictable?

"I know, but I fancy a treat," she grinned, scouring the menu intently. "I think I can afford some extra calories, since I've been burning so many." She giggled to herself. I furrowed my brow, wondering what she was getting at, but decided to let it go when the waitress came over.

"So, what can I get you ladies today?" The same waitress who had been serving us for years asked knowingly.

"Hello Rita," I smiled up at her. "I think I'll just have my usual, and a pot of tea, please," I added, closing the menu and setting it back down.

"One ham and mushroom omelette coming right up." She made a note of it on her pad. "And for you Ginny?"

"Hmm...you know, I think I fancy the classic all day breakfast today," she finally decided, closing her menu with finality. "Oh, and another coffee when you have a minute." She raised her almost empty cup for show.

"Okay ladies, I'll get those out to you shortly," she smiled and rushed off, the café was busy today.

"Really Ginny? The full breakfast?" I asked, rather surprised. "All that fat?" Ginny was always health conscious, after training professionally on the Quidditch team for so long she was always cutting out sugar or fat or something from her families diet, much to Harry's chagrin.

"Once in a while doesn't hurt. Besides, I deserve it!" She defended herself, flicking her long red hair over her shoulder.

"Fair enough," I held my hands up in defeat, not prepared to argue with her about food – what she ate was her choice, I just wondered what Harry would say about it since I knew he was currently being denied any fried food at home right now. Besides, I had enough battles over food with her brother and trying to get him to eat more healthy. And suddenly I was wondering if that was it. Was I chasing him away because I had become an annoying, nagging wife? I shook my head, wanting to have a break from thinking about it all, the matter had consumed my thoughts all morning already. "So, how is Lily doing at school now?" I asked, changing the subject completely. I knew my little niece, Lily, had had a bit of a rough time settling in at Hogwarts, hating it in her first week and writing sobbing letters, begging to come home.

"Oh, she seems perfectly fine now. I think she's settled down and got used to it, even madd a couple of friends judging from her last letter." Ginny looked relieved. "Her letters are certainly much brighter and full of funny stories anyway. Which is good, because I think Harry was about ready to storm up there and bring his little girl home!" she laughed. "Not that I'd have blamed him one bit of course, she's our baby," she sighed wistfully. I shared her feelings, missing my own just as much – how had our children grown so quickly? "It's strange now though, isn't it? Not having the kids at home."

"How do you mean?" I asked, hoping she was going to say something about experiencing the same kind of issues I was fearing in our marriage, if only so I'd have someone to talk to, someone who would understand.

"Oh, you know. Just...they're so far away and we're suddenly home alone again. I never realised how much I'd miss them."

"Oh, yes," I nodded, "I know what you mean. I write to the children nearly every day, but it's not the same, is it? No little feet running around, no laughter from their rooms. I miss the sound of chatter in the house." I mused, realising just how quiet our home had become. "I think I even miss the sound of the pair of them falling out." I rested my chin in my hand and leant on the table.

"Me too!" she laughed. "Of course, I write to them all frequently as well, Harry thinks it's too much and I might embarrass them, but...they're my babies!" she bemoaned and placed her hands over her heart, "what does he expect? Just the other day I found Lily's favourite purple sparkly shoe laces and I sent them straight up to school for her. Harry thought I was being ridiculous, asking me what I thought she'd need them at school for, but she loves them and she'll always be my little girl. I can't help being a mum, can I?"

"Not at all, we'll always be their mum and worry about them, no matter how old they get."

"Exactly," she rolled her eyes. "I think I finally understand where my Mum has been coming from all these years."

"Me too, I feel I should apologise for all the times I scoffed at Mum when she told me I'd always be her little girl. It's hard getting used to having an empty house though - I still set the table for four sometimes. And just the other day I called Hugo down for breakfast before I realised." I rolled my eyes at myself as our drinks arrived.

After pouring myself some tea and taking a much needed sip whilst Ginny stirred sugar into her coffee, I dared broach the subject. "So, erm...apart from a quieter house and missing them, how is everything else at home?"

She smiled that mysterious little smile again, her eyes lighting up at the same time and I wondered what she was was bursting to share with me. "Well, Harry misses them too, obviously. But..."

"Oh Ron is terrible," I interrupted her with a weary groan. "It was bad enough when Rosie left, but now that Hugo has gone as well, it's like someone stole his favourite playmates," I laughed once, rather soberly.

"Still," she grinned, "he must enjoy, the erm...well, the benefits?" she asked, waggling her eyebrows.

"Benefits?" I asked, not following her.

"Yeah, you know," she giggled. "The benefit of having the house to yourself again, not having to avoid kids prying eyes, and…well, having more time for each other," she winked.

"Erm, er…." I still didn't understand.

"Sex," she leant over and whispered the word to me. "Isn't it nice to enjoy some adult time alone, without any interruptions? No banging on the door at inappropriate times claiming they had a nightmare or tattling on their brother or whatever other poor excuse they can come up with for disturbing us. It's just me and Harry again, and lots of time for fun!" The way she flashed her eyebrows let me know what kind of fun she was referring to.

"Oh, yeah," I lied, busying myself with stirring my tea again. "Loads of fun," I muttered.

"Honestly," she shifted her seat so she was closer to me and didn't have to speak so loudly, "Harry and I have been like newly-weds the past couple of weeks. If you get the idea!" She laughed and then fanned herself as I noted the trait of the Weasley blush creeping over her cheeks. "It's been amazing. He's even suggested we go away for a few days, says we can have a second honeymoon," she added, looking entirely too pleased with herself.

I tried to be happy for her, I really did, simply because she was my friend and sister-in-law and I wanted her to be happy. And I tried not to be filled with jealousy that her marriage was perfect and mine was heading down the drain. After all, it was hardly her fault Ron and I were drifting apart or I was chasing him away of whatever the problem between us was. But, it was bloody hard to lie! I wanted that with my husband – I wanted to be enjoying our freedom by having loads of sex...or any sex for that matter. I wanted to be rekindling our bond and planning trips away. But, I wasn't and that was depressing.

"I'm sure you're just the same, right? I mean, not that I want any details," she held up a hand playfully. "You are still married to my brother, after all!" She chuckled and pushed her hair back again.

"Oh, right. Yeah...lots of fun. Newly-weds," I nodded in agreement, not being able to admit to her that we were having problems. That I couldn't remember the last time we'd had made love or had any kind of fun together.

"Isn't it great?" Ginny asked, obviously delighted with her life and as our lunch arrived and I enviously regarded her food, I suddenly realised why she claimed she was burning extra calories. All the bloody sex she was getting – lucky cow!

The only thing I was burning any more of was the lamps, since I was staying up longer to read! "Oh, yeah, great!" I muttered, stabbing a mushroom from my omelette much more forcefully than I meant to.

We ate in silence for awhile, the pair of us munching away, obviously hungry after a busy morning in the office. Ginny seemed to be glowing, her eyes smiling with joy. Whereas I probably looked about a 100 years old and miserable.

"So, how's work?" I asked quickly when I heard Ginny clear her throat as though she was about to say something. I was desperate to steer clear of the same topic, afraid if she said any more I'd be throwing my teacup at her in a fit of jealous rage!

"Oh," her shoulders slumped as she chased a forkful of beans around her plate. "The Skeeter bitch is on my damn case again," she sighed. "I can't stand that bloody insane woman!"

"What is she doing this time?" I asked, totally agreeing with her. The woman was like a curse we couldn't get shut of and hadn't given us a moments peace since the end of the war. I admired Ginny's patience in being able to work in the same building as her at The Daily Prophet.

"Well, you know that piece she wrote on Harry and I? When we had a few, erm...words at the station seeing the kids off last month?" she asked me.

I nodded, remembering clearly the little spat they'd had – all about nothing and had mostly occurred because they'd both been rather emotional at waving all of their children off on the train. "You mean that story about the two of you on the verge of a break up?" I asked.

"Yeah, that. I warned her to lay off us. Told her to attempt some professional journalism for once in her pathetic life and stop writing such rubbish. But she just…"

I let her rant away about her personal vendetta against Rita Skeeter, and instead found myself lost in my own thoughts, Ginny's voice fading to the background until I barely heard a thing she was saying. How ironic that Rita would write a story about Harry and Ginny's marriage being in trouble, when it was actually my marriage to Ron that was having problems. I hoped that we weren't going to make the papers next – that was the last thing we needed.

"Hermione! Hermione!"

I looked up, rather startled as Ginny called my name and then waved her hand in front of my face. "Are you all right? You've been very quiet and..."

"Oh, yes." I shifted in my seat as I shook my head, forcing a smile for her. "Don't worry about it, just a problem at work on my mind."

She laughed. "Anyway, I was just saying, since the four of us have more free time now and we don't have to worry about babysitters or anything, how about the four of us go out together? We haven't done that in so long. We could go to the Muggle cinema? Or out to dinner or, well...whatever we fancy really." She shrugged one shoulder as she watched me hopefully.

"Oh, erm...yeah sure. Just, let me speak to Ron and I'll see what he thinks."

"Great, well let me know," she added as we gathered our things together, ready to leave the café and head back to work. Ginny chattered on as we headed back to the Ministry about some article she'd read in Witch Weekly, not noticing that I only gave monosyllabic responses. Until we parted ways in the atrium to head to different offices. "I'll see you Sunday at The Burrow, if not before! Owl me about a night out!" she called over the crowd. "And say hey to my dumb brother!" she laughed.

"Give Harry my love!" I waved back and slowly returned to my office, feeling even worse than I had before lunch.

* * *

I didn't get much work done that afternoon. Okay, I didn't get _any_ work done. I opened a few files and flipped through them. I wrote the odd word. I filed some work that had been sat finished on my desk for days and that was about it. I spent the rest of my time twirling my quill between my fingers, gazing at the family photo that sat on my desk – focusing solely on Ron. He had his arm around me in the photo, smiling proudly whilst our children giggled and playfully squabbled in front of us. Just as the flash went off, he leaned in and kissed my cheek, the pair of us giggling as I playfully swatted him away. Had that really only been taken at the start of the summer whilst we were away on holiday?

Did that mean things had been fine between us then? Had the cracks not started to show? Or was Ron just that good of an actor around our children? Of course, I had noticed that Ron had seemed a little solemn since the children had left for school, but I had simply put that down to him missing them. He had a very close bond with both of them and was an incredible father. Since his work hours at the shop were much more flexible than mine, he had volunteered to be the one who was home for them most often and take on more of the domestic duties - essentially raising our family whilst I worked on my career. That's not to say I was a frequently absent Mum. My family meant the world to me and I spent every moment with them that I could. But I knew Ron really enjoyed getting to spend so much time with them and that our children loved their father. Even if Rosie was now getting to the age where her parents could be a bit of an embarrassment. I suppose Ron and his silly jokes did seem rather lame to a 14 year old.

But, what if that wasn't the only reason Ron had been so quiet and withdrawn? What if he had noticed problems before I had and hated what was happening just as much? What if he was simply miserable with our marriage...with me? Was he tired of being the one left with all the responsibilities at home? It was true that I did spend long hours at the office sometimes and that he spent more time at home, sometimes alone. So now without either of the children for company, he couldn't be enjoying that much and maybe he was lonely and feeling neglected. What if _I_ was the problem that was chasing him away?

I spent some time pacing my office, deep in thought about us. This was like some exam I didn't know the answers to or a quest I had no idea how to solve and it was probably the most important task I would ever take on.

And then I started comparing our relationship with Ginny and Harry's after everything she'd told me over lunch, wondering how they had time for so much fun when I knew they both had demanding jobs. Harry could be called out for a job at all hours and I knew he often worked later than me. So, if they could manage to find time for one another and conduct a happy, fulfilling marriage, then why couldn't Ron and I?

And then an old saying came back to me, something my Dad had often told me when I was a small child and wished I had been like everyone else in school. That comparison is the thief of joy. In other words, to compare yourself or your situation to someone else, it stole the joy from your own life. You forgot about what you had and how lucky you already were and focused on what you didn't have. I didn't want to finish up like that. I knew I was lucky to have Ron – he was considerate, loving and thoughtful. He rarely complained about being the one who mostly took care of the cooking or the shopping or putting a load of laundry on. He had proved himself to be an excellent husband and I needed to remember that more often.

And dammit, I was going to do my best to prove to him that I was a good wife, that I loved him dearly and that I was going to make things amazing between us again! I hated things the way they were right now.

* * *

 _Please review...it's nice to know someone likes me :)_


	2. Chapter 2

_Wow! Thank you so much for all the reviews, favourites and follows to my first chapter...I've been a little overwhelmed with it all, so thank you for the love. I shall try to get back to everyone who left a review...soon!_

 _Also, apologies for taking awhile with the next chapter – been lazy about editing (not my favourite job!) and sorry this chapter is shorter than my usual. Good news is though, the next chapter is almost edited :)_

 _On with the story…_

 _My usual disclaimers apply_

* * *

 **Chapter Two**

"Ron? I'm home!" I called, finally stepping out of the fireplace, brushing soot from my clothes. As I unfastened my work robes and lay them over the back of the sofa, I inhaled deeply. Judging from the delicious smells permeating the house, Ron was busy cooking dinner.

"In the kitchen!" he replied, against a clatter of pans and utensils.

I set my briefcase down, kicked off my shoes with a weary sigh and went through to find him. "I'm sorry I'm late," I apologised. "I erm...had some last minute work to catch up on." I told him, neglecting to explain that since I hadn't done any work all afternoon, I had everything to catch up on at the last minute.

"Don't worry," he muttered whilst pouring the yorkshire pudding batter over a pan of sizzling sausages, creating toad in the hole. "I've not been home too long myself. George popped in and insisted on a stock check," he groaned and rolled his eyes. "Anyway...hello," he gave me a smile as he leant forward to kiss my cheek.

Instinctively, I grasped the back of his neck and turned my head so as our lips met in a heated, passionate kiss. The kind of kiss I loved and realised sadly that we hadn't shared in far too long.

He pulled back when I let him go and gave me a funny look. "What was that for?" he queried, seemingly confused.

I raised an eyebrow as I shifted my weight to one leg. "I need a reason to kiss my husband now?" I asked him.

He just shrugged and seemed to be blushing slightly as he rubbed the back of his neck and then turned to pick up the pan and bent to place it in the oven. "Erm, anyway..." he began, a little flustered as he kicked the oven door closed, "dinner will be about another half an hour, so you can..."

"Can I help with anything?" I offered.

"Oh," he blinked and glanced around the kitchen. "Actually, it's all done, just waiting for it to cook now. So, you can go get started on whatever work you had to bring home. I'll call you when..."

"Actually, I didn't bring any work home tonight," I cut him off. It had become the norm for me to bring work home at night, trying to catch up on my never-ending pile of paperwork. But, upon the realisation that I was maybe focusing too much time on my job and not enough on my marriage, I had left all my files at the office tonight. Ron needed my attention much more right now and something had to change if I wanted to fix this...whatever was happening between us.

"You didn't?" he looked surprised as he set the timer with a flick of his wand.

"No," I replied. "But, if you don't need my help, I'll pop upstairs for a quick shower and get changed. Then, perhaps we can sit down and you can tell me about your day?"

"Oh, erm, well, all right," he stammered, giving me a puzzled look before casting another charm that added the dirty pots into the bowl of soapy water and another that sent clean plates and cutlery whizzing from cupboards and drawers towards the table, all landing neatly.

"I won't be long," I told him before heading upstairs to our room.

Upstairs, I sat on our bed, feeling more than a little despondent. My kiss hadn't only taken him by surprise, it seemed to have embarrassed him as well. I had embarrassed my overly affectionate husband who would kiss me and show public displays of affection in front of anyone, without care. WHAT was going on here? Was I missing something? Was this more than him feeling down and missing the kids? Was he pulling away from me because someone else was involved?

My heart dropped at the mere thought of someone else with my husband, touching him, kissing him. Jealous at the thought of him loving anyone but me. I felt for sure that Ron would never do that to me, he would never cheat – he was nothing if not fiercely loyal. But, what else could be going on? If there was a simple explanation, I needed to hear it.

Either I had spent much longer in the shower than I had thought or Ron had used a few spells to speed up the cooking, because by the time I returned downstairs he was pulling the toad in the hole from the oven and mashing the potatoes – all with the help of magic of course. Had the idea of us sitting down for a chat really freaked him out that much that he had rushed dinner?

"Thank you," I murmured as I took my seat at the table and he slid dinner in front of me.

It was delicious, as always. Who knew Ron would become the experimental expert in the kitchen? Though, I suppose growing up with his Mum's cooking and his love of food, it shouldn't be too surprising that he'd learn how to make what he enjoyed. He'd always done most of the cooking in the house – he seemed to enjoy it and was much better at it than I was.

Unfortunately, the company wasn't quite as delightful. Besides asking me if I wanted anymore gravy, we ate in silence. For a few minutes that was simply because we were both hungry and enjoying our food. But then things seemed to just become awkward between us. Ron looked up at me a couple of times, as though he was about to speak, then seemingly changed his mind and shoved another forkful of food into his mouth.

Finally, I could stand it no more and cleared my throat. "I saw Ginny at lunchtime," I began, starting with a safe topic.

"Uh huh," he mumbled through a mouthful of peas. "And how is skinny Ginny?"

"She's great. Seems really happy actually."

"Good," he nodded, picking up his glass and downing his elderflower wine.

"She, erm, she suggested us going out with them one night? You know, the four of us. Dinner maybe or the cinema or something?" I continued, hoping to get more conversation out of him.

"Yeah? Sounds good," he agreed and set his glass back down, digging into his food again.

"Right, well I'll let her know then." I looked back down at my own plate, suddenly losing my appetite over my failed attempt to start a conversation.

I joined Ron in the lounge after I'd cleared the kitchen and set the pots washing themselves. He was sat in his favourite armchair, his eyes closed and his head resting against the back of the cushion. The radio was on, re-playing a recent Quidditch match, but I knew he kept nodding off – soft snores left his open mouth before he'd startle himself awake and shift in his seat, focusing on the match again.

I picked up a book and sat down, but was too preoccupied to concentrate and kept reading the same paragraph over and over. Instead, I was sneaking glances over towards Ron, glad his eyes were closed as it allowed me to study him without his knowledge. He was still a very handsome man, even at 40. His hair still bright red and fairly thick – lucky as he was, not to have inherited his father's hairline. His face, sculptured from his long nose to his luscious lips had barely changed, at least to me, since his teenage years. And, whilst he might not have been as svelte as he had been at 21, he was still lean, with just a little extra weight around his belly. He was still the gorgeous boy I had fallen in love with, the man I still loved and I sighed as I watched him. What were we going to do? Could we fix this?

For not the first time that day I wondered what the exact problem was. Was it me? Had I changed too much? Maybe he just wasn't attracted to me anymore, I knew my body had changed after having children, though he'd always claimed I was as beautiful as ever, a few pounds and stretch marks wasn't going to change how he felt about me. But, what if he'd suddenly lost interest or he was bored being married or simply no longer in love with me? Not knowing the real answer was probably the worst thing, I was imagining the very worst case scenario and getting myself upset about it even more.

I almost had myself in tears by the time Ron had startled himself awake again. I shook my head to dispel my thoughts and quickly glanced down at my book, pretending I was absorbed in it as I curled into the corner of the sofa. The Quidditch match had finished and the news was blaring from the radio. Ron peered at the wireless in annoyance, as though it was the devices fault he'd missed most of the game by nodding off, and turned it off with a snap before stretching his arms above his head and yawning.

"Well," he got to his feet, "think I'm going to go take a bath," he decided and headed upstairs before I had chance to reply. Once upon a time, he might have teasingly asked if I'd like to join him. Sometimes I'd have taken him up on the offer and we'd have fun together. But not now, not any more.

I gave up on reading my book, tossing it to the side and tried not to give into the tears that threatened to fall again. Is this what we'd been reduced to? Was this what had become of our marriage? We worked all day, came home and ate dinner, sat around in silence and then went to bed? Every bloody day? Maybe that was the problem, our lives had become too routine and boring for him. I needed to get up and do something else before I worried myself into a state again and almost wished I had brought some work home as a distraction as I slipped into our study. Instead, I sat at the desk and pulled out some parchment, deciding to write to our children rather than dwell on our marital problems.

By the time I made it upstairs, Ron was practically ready for bed, just pulling a T-shirt over his head. "Hey," I mumbled, closing the door behind me. "I erm...I just wrote quick letters for Rosie and Hugo. Thought you might like to add something?" I held them out to him.

"Oh, yeah," he nodded and took them from me. "Thanks." Then, leaning across the bed he grabbed a quill from my bedside table and a book to lean on. Without another word, he began to scribble something on the back of the short letters I had written to our children, just asking how they were, letting them know we missed them and asking if they needed anything. And giving some advice that Rose had asked for.

I sighed, watching him intently bent over the letters resting on the book on his knee and went into the bathroom to get ready for bed myself. It was rather early for us to be turning in, but I had nothing else to do – the house was clean thanks to Ron and I found I couldn't settle with a book or any work. Besides, maybe an early night would help – because it was obvious I was overly emotional about everything right now.

"Is Chicken still out hunting?" Ron called to me, the ridiculous name for our owl slid off his lips effortlessly. He thought it was funny.

I finished rinsing after brushing my teeth. "Yes," I replied before wiping my face with the towel. "I'll give him them to take in the morning." I added, poking my head around the bathroom door.

"Right," he nodded and sealed the envelopes before I had chance to see anything he'd written to our children. Setting them aside on top of the chest of drawers, he turned back to the bed, tossing the extra cushions off and pulling the sheets down, intending to get in.

I pulled a nightgown from my drawer and watched as he propped himself up in bed, flicking through his latest Quidditch magazine. I chewed on my bottom lip, trying to make sense of all this, wondering what else I had missed. Was there something obvious and I'd become blind to it?

Finally, I heaved a sigh as I put my hairbrush down and moved towards the bed, sitting gently on the side. "Ron..." I began, hesitantly.

He looked up over his magazine, one eyebrow cocked in question.

"Is...is everything okay?" I asked, not able to meet his eyes as I smoothed the wrinkles from the bottom sheet of the bed. "I mean, erm..."

"Yeah, fine," he shrugged and turned the page in his magazine.

"You're sure? Things are okay at work and..."

"Yeah, everything is fine," he repeated, this time not looking up.

I nodded and bit my lip, standing to pull the duvet back further so I could get into bed beside him. I picked up a book, but before I even opened it, I dropped it onto my legs and slammed my hand down on it. "You would...you'd tell if something wasn't okay, right? If anything was bothering you...because you know you can tell me anything."

He huffed out a puff of air and closed his magazine. "Everything is just fine. Stop bloody going on!"

"I'm not!" I replied, stunned by his response. "I mean, I just..." My shoulders slumped, not sure how to explain what I was feeling or what was worrying me.

"I'm just tired, and if you're done, I'd like to go to sleep now." He dropped his magazine to the floor, flicked off his lamp and shuffled down into bed.

"Right. Sure, okay." I nodded and forced a brief smile for him.

Leaning on one elbow, he leant over and lightly touched his lips against mine. "Night." he murmured, before he lay down and rolled over, his back facing me.

"Night," I replied, fighting back tears again. That hadn't gone at all how I'd hoped. I stared at the book on my lap for a few more minutes, before inhaling deeply, setting it back on the bedside table and laying down in bed myself. I looked towards him, wanting to touch him, wanting to hold him and make this, whatever it was, all go away so we could be happy together again.

All I saw was the expanse of empty sheets between us – a wide galley that seemed significant to how far apart we'd drifted away from each other. Rolling away, I buried my face in my pillow so he wouldn't hear the sobs I couldn't hold back any more. We had once slept so close to one another, limbs entwined and snuggled up in the middle of the bed. Now, we lay on separate sides of the bed, alone.

Sleep didn't come easily for me, and when it did, it was anything but peaceful. Dreams haunted my already stressed mind, causing me to toss and turn. Until finally, I shot bolt upright in bed, shouting with my arms outstretched.

"No! Please! Don't! RON!" I screamed his name in panic, in desperation as my eyes suddenly shot open. My heart was pounding with fear as slowly my brain caught up with the realisation I was actually safe in our bedroom.

I vaguely felt movement behind me and the rustle of sheets being thrown back as I tried to calm down, feeling foolish now. And then Ron was knelt behind me, a gentle hand on my shoulder. "H'mione?" he asked gently, his thumb stroking back and forth through the soft jersey of my nightshirt. "You okay?" he asked quietly in the darkness.

"Yes," I breathed, slowly getting myself under control. "Yes," I repeated a bit louder, taking a deep breath and pushing my now damp hair off my face as I turned my head to look at him. "Just a… a bad dream," I muttered.

"Same as usual?" he asked, knowingly, an arm now around me as he gave me a hug. Although the war had happened years ago now, some scars didn't heal as well as others. We'd lived through some terrifying times and experienced such tragic circumstances that occasionally memories still haunted us and nightmares plagued our sleep, especially when were were stressed.

"I, erm...yeah," I mumbled, pushing the covers off myself, feeling hot and sweaty. "I'm fine," I turned my head towards him, vaguely seeing his outline in the dark as I gave him what I hoped was a reassuring smile. "Really, go back to sleep." I told him, patting his hand on the arm that was wrapped around my shoulder.

"Really?" he asked, his hand not leaving me. All I really wanted was to throw myself in his arms and beg him to hold me and never, ever leave me, but I was afraid of bursting into tears and crying all over him.

"Yeah, I'll just...get a drink water. I'm fine. Sorry I woke you," I apologised, climbing from the bed.

"S'okay," he mumbled, moving back to his side of the bed, but keeping his eye on me as I slipped into the bathroom.

With the bathroom door closed, I ran the cold tap and held a cup under it, looking at my reflection in the mirror. And then, I burst into tears. I quickly grabbed a towel to muffle the sound, not wanting to worry Ron and not wanting him to come bursting in here. I couldn't even look at him, couldn't tell him, not right now.

Because, the dream hadn't been anything like the usual kind – that bitch hadn't been torturing me again. I wasn't seeing friends or loved ones die. I wasn't fighting for my life. No, this dream had been different. And yet just as terrifying.

I had seen Ron...in the arms of some blonde woman, walking away from me and telling me it was all over, that he'd had enough and didn't want me nor love me anymore.

And to me, right now, that thought was more terrifying than anything we'd already lived through.

* * *

 _Let me know...more soon!_

 _xC_


	3. Chapter 3

_I just need to address something before we go on with the next chapter. I have had a couple of people (or perhaps the same person) sounding rather irate with me over my mentioning, before the first chapter, of that infamous interview with JK Rowling and Emma Watson regarding Ron and Hermione's coupling and how that inspired this story. These people are only logged in as guests and therefore I can't reply to them personally._

 _First, please know that I HAVE read that entire interview – a few times so I could fully understand what was being said and I know that JK never actually said she regretted putting them together. When I said_ 'the drama of the stories of her saying she regretted putting them together _', I meant the way the interview was reported by the media in their stories and how the media misunderstood it and made it into that drama (though, I know there are some fans who don't ship Romione who take that as gospel truth) I never meant to imply that is what JK said or that I agreed with it. When I first heard those stories, I was SO upset - I actually cried over fictional characters because I love them so much, love them together and think they're perfect – they're my OTP and I was devastated, thinking she would say such a thing. Then, I got my hands on the actual interview and calmed down...because it was all reported wrong and whilst she may have implied they might have issues (every marriage has it's ups and downs) I am aware JK Rowling, personally, never actually said the word 'regret' in the actual interview._

 _I hope you understand that. I love Hermione and Ron together – they make sense to me and balance each other out. So, please don't misunderstand my words or yell at me for doing so. I never said I believed in what was or wasn't said, just that the interview sparked an inspiration of a problem they could have (and all marriages, even those that 'will be fine', have a problem of some sort at some time). Thanks._

 _And now, thank you to those lovely people who left me such nice comments about my actual story and not an authors note – they are appreciated so much and I need to get off my backside and reply to you all! Thanks for all the follows and faves too :)_

 _I've managed to get ahead a bit of myself with the editing so I can post at least once a week, because I want to get this all posted before Christmas…and try to write a new festive story for you to enjoy as well (I have an idea)!_

 _So, on with the story...usual disclaimers apply._

* * *

 **Chapter Three**

I shuffled into work the following morning, hoping to escape into my office and avoid everyone for as long as possible. I clutched a large cup of coffee, purchased from the kiosk in the atrium, in the hopes of it making me feel more human. Because last night had been awful. Sleep had taken hours to return and I had spent the majority of the night just gazing at Ron's sleeping form, silently praying that he would never leave me. I wouldn't know how to go on without him, not now. And then I had finally managed to drift off in the early hours of the morning, only to wake up late and have to rush around to get to work on time.

"Hermione?" Someone called my name, just shy of my making it safely to my office and closing the door against the world.

"Yes?" I looked up, plastering a fake smile on my face.

"Oh...you look terrible," my friend and secretary, Vanessa, kindly informed me. And then, probably realising how that had sounded, tried to backtrack. "Er, I mean, just...are you not feeling well?"

"I'm fine," I sighed, wishing I could close the door already. "I just didn't sleep well. Did you need something?" I tried to behave politely.

"Oh," she held up a brown file of parchment. "I just had some documents for you to sign, but they can wait." She hid them behind her back. "Don't worry about it. You go and...erm, get settled," she waved me towards my office and gave me a little sympathetic smile before leaving me alone.

I nodded and smiled back, grateful to her for being subtle. Vanessa had become a good friend to me over the years in my working here. She was somewhat older than me, yet we had bonded over our mutual love of books and I now classed her as my greatest ally within the department – being the Deputy Head of the Magical Law Enforcement wasn't always a thankful task.

With a deep sigh, I hung my cloak up, sat down, took a huge swallow of coffee and determinedly grabbed a file to settle down to some work. And for at least half an hour I did just that, scribbling away as I read over a case and made notes on how best to present the case when it came up in the Wizengamot shortly. But then I shifted positions and caught sight of the family photo again and I lost all focus once more.

I don't know how long I sat staring at that photo, lost in my own thoughts and twirling my quill between my fingers again, until there was a knock at the door and Vanessa stuck her head in. "Sorry, only me. Do you have a moment to sign these for me now?" she held up the file again.

"Oh, yes. Of course," I attempted to look busy, jumping up to shuffle some papers and close some files.

"Good, the Minister is breathing down my neck for them," she grumbled, giving me a wry grin as she set them down before me. We both knew what he could be like about paperwork sometimes.

Silently, I signed them all, checking each casually as to what I was signing for, but not reading them as closely as I would have done usually.

"Hermione..." Vanessa began, perched on a chair opposite as she watched me sign each document. "Forgive me for asking, but...is everything all right?" she asked with friendly concern.

I looked up at her and frowned. Did I look that bad? Was it that obvious?

"Just...you can tell me to mind my own business, you know I won't take offence. But, you're not yourself. You looked terrible when you came in and, well, you've seemed distracted the last few days. But, today I'd say you were even worse."

I looked up at her sharply, stunned that she had noticed what those closest to me, including my own husband, had failed to see. I stared at her with my quill poised over a sheet of parchment regarding sentencing papers for someone I had recently won a case against. "I...I..." I stammered over my words and then alarmingly I felt tears pool in my eyes.

"Hey...what is it?" she noticed. "If you need to talk..."

I shrugged and bit my wobbling bottom lip, trying to fight back the tears, knowing it wouldn't be professional to burst into tears at work. But they overwhelmed me and escaped in a huge sob. "I think I'm losing my husband!" I wailed. "And I haven't a clue what to do about it."

"Oh," she gasped, apparently not expecting that outburst. She pointed her wand at my door to lock it and close the blinds. Then produced a handkerchief from somewhere as she dragged her chair beside mine and placed her hand on my back comfortingly. "Now, what is going on?" she asked me once I'd composed myself a little.

I took a deep breath and wiped at my eyes again. "Ron...he's just, he's miserable. SO miserable. And, I don't know why. He won't talk to me...and, I, I think we're drifting apart," I confessed.

"Right, okay," she nodded. "Have you tried talking to him? Asking him if anything is wrong?"

I nodded. "He snapped at me. Said he was fine."

"Well, perhaps he'd just had a bad day at work or he was tired, How long has this been going on?"

"That's the trouble!" I sobbed again and shook my head. "I don't know! I mean, I've noticed for awhile that he's been a bit quieter than usual, I thought he was just missing the children or work was hectic. But, yesterday I realised how routine our marriage has become and rather stale. We barely talk to one another or do anything as a couple. I can't even remember the last time we…we were, you know, intimate," I confessed, blushing slightly. "It's like we're living separate lives in the same house and things just aren't the same anymore. I think, well I think he's lost interest."

"And, how do you feel about him?"

"I love him!" I wailed. "I love him just as much as I always have. But this is so frustrating and painful because I don't know how to fix it. Is this even normal?"

She sighed and sat back in her chair. "You're asking the wrong person dear, you know I don't have a great track record with relationships. But, I think over the years, you get comfortable in a marriage and things aren't always going to be as exhilarating as they were at the beginning. I suppose after years together, you do get into routines with work and being parents and domestic life. And, perhaps somewhere down the road, you just forget how to be a couple."

I nodded. "Maybe you're right. Last night though, I erm...I tried to initiate something and he got all uncomfortable about it," I confessed, thinking on the heated kiss I had given him as I twisted the tissue in my hands. "I don't think he finds me attractive anymore. Maybe he just fell out of love with me."

"Nonsense!" she spat sharply.

I looked up at her in surprise.

"I'm just saying, I have seen the way that man looks at you. And believe me, if after 16 years of marriage, my husband had still looked at me that way, then we wouldn't have finished up divorced." she chuckled with little humour." Of course, if that great troll I was married to wasn't seeing someone else on the side as well, but," she shrugged as I watched her in surprise – not having known that before. "Look, Ron loves you. I'm sure of that. But, maybe after so many years together, you need to...you know, entice him a little," she winked.

"Sorry?" I failed to follow her meaning.

"Spice things up a little bit. Make things more exciting in the bedroom," she suggested with a giggle.

"Oh," I felt myself become warm, getting embarrassed. Although our sex life had always been satisfying and passionate, we'd always been rather, vanilla, when it came to sex. We'd lived out a few innocent fantasies, but nothing kinky had ever occurred and I didn't think I'd be comfortable doing that now. "I...I don't know about that," I muttered, brushing my hair back behind my ear.

She smiled at me. "I'm not suggesting anything exotic or...freaky. But, just remind him what he's got at home and what he's been neglecting. Buy something new and sexy to seduce him with," she finished.

I laughed at her then, finding her idea rather ridiculous. I should not have to seduce my own husband into sleeping with me, surely?

"Honestly, he's a man, give it a try. There's a chance he's feeling every bit as frustrated as you. I'm not saying sex is going to fix everything, but...it's a start, right? At least you'd know he still fancied you and if nothing else, you'd have some fun," she nudged me with her elbow.

"Erm, yes. Right. Thanks...I'll er, think about it," I smiled, not wanting to upset her or throw her advice back in her face after she'd been so kind. Even if it I did think it was rather silly. If something as simple as sexy underwear could fix a marriage, then I don't know why we even had divorce courts in the department.

"Don't you worry, you'll be fine. I've seen the two of you together," she added knowingly, patting my shoulder as she stood up, collected the now signed documents and left me to it.

After she'd closed my door, I clasped my hand to my own forehead and shook my head in disbelief. What on earth was she thinking? Still, at least it had given me a much needed giggle.

Somehow, I made it through the rest of my work day with no more breakdowns and even managed to get some work done so that I managed to leave work on time. I arrived home, hoping that maybe we could have a real conversation so I could find out what was wrong, only to discover that Ron wasn't home yet. Perhaps he was still stuck doing that stock check, I wondered and decided to make a start on dinner to give him a night off.

The only thing I had ever been able to cook well was spaghetti bolognese, which luckily had become a family favourite, even if most of the ingredients did come out of a jar. So, after a quick change of clothes, I got on with it. I had the sauce simmering and just waiting for Ron to come home before I put the pasta on when I found the post from this morning that I hadn't had time to check. Curiously there was a letter, already opened, addressed to the both of us. I cast a couple of charms on the food so it wouldn't burn and took the letter to the kitchen table, gladly taking a seat.

Noting the Hogwarts seal on the back, I pulled the letter out quickly, hoping both children were okay and not in any trouble – perhaps Ron was up at the school right now dealing with something, though I was sure he would have informed me first so we could go together. We were both their parents after all, regardless of what was happening between us. Instead, after glancing quickly through the letter, I smiled to myself and began to form a plan.

It was another half an hour before Ron returned home, just as I was starting to worry about him. "Sorry!" he apologised seeing me waiting for him at the kitchen table. "Had to pop up to Hogsmeade to see George about something, and he dragged me to the Hogshead for a drink. Practically insisted on it," he complained. The Hogshead was George's usual for a quiet tipple – he got less attention there as people left him alone. We'd all had our share of staring and pointing over the years and it got tiresome rather quickly.

"I doubt you took much persuading," I muttered to myself. "Well, I made dinner," I offered, attempting some brightness.

"Great, I'm starving." He went to wash up as I put the pasta on, casting a quick spell to speed up the cooking, so that I was able to serve our meal by the time he joined me at the table.

I watched him for a few moments, twirling pasta around my fork as he ate his like it was a race, slurping long strands of spaghetti into his mouth. "So..." I began, "I take it you saw the letter from McGonagall this morning?" I asked.

He nodded, chewed and swallowed. "Yeah. About the Quidditch match next month?"

I nodded and smiled in response. "It was nice of her to invite us up for Rose's first match this season."

"I think they invite all parents with kids on the teams to the matches now," he muttered. "Something about having more family involvement with the school," he shrugged, as though he wasn't sure.

"Yes. Well, it will be lovely to watch her play for her house and support her. As well as getting a chance to see our children, of course."

"Uh huh," he nodded in reply, breaking off some of the crusty, warm bread I had set on the table.

"I...I was actually thinking," I watched him carefully. "After the match and we've seen Hugo and Rose, perhaps we could check into the B&B in Hogsmeade? We could make a weekend of it and..."

"Why?" he asked, tearing off a piece of his bread and using it to mop some of his sauce from his plate before popping it into his mouth.

"Well," I huffed, "I just...I thought it might be nice for us to get away for a weekend, spend a couple of days together somewhere." And get out of this bloody boring, miserable rut we have found ourselves in, I added in my head.

"In Hogsmeade?" he asked dubiously. "We'll only be up there for a few hours at most and then we can disapparate straight home. Hardly worth checking into a B&B for and wasting money."

"That's not the point!" I said, rather louder than I meant to.

"Then what is? What are you getting at?" He set his fork down and really looked at me for the first time since he'd got home.

"Nothing. Just forget I said anything," I flapped my hand in the air, as though I could make the suggestion disappear. "If you don't want to be with...to go," I changed my wording, "then we won't."

"Well of course I want to go to the match and see the kids. I just don't get why we have to stay over. Seems pointless," he shrugged as he picked up his fork again and finished his last mouthful of dinner.

"Fine," I whispered. "Then we won't stay. We'll watch the match, see our children and come home, okay?"

"Okay," he nodded, swallowing the last of his drink before getting up to put his dirty pots in the sink. "Anything for pudding?" he asked, failing to notice that I was rather upset.

"No," I mumbled in reply. "I didn't make anything."

"Oh well, think we still have some of that tart Mum sent over," he decided and went off to find it, leaving me alone in a turmoil of emotions. I was trying here and he didn't seem to bloody care at all.

* * *

The rest of the week plodded along in the same miserable, monotonous routine we had fallen into. We had become the boring old married couple he had once joked about - I found it anything but amusing. Ron still seemed oblivious to the fact that anything was wrong, or maybe he simply didn't care, and I felt completely alone and unhappy within my marriage. I wish I had someone to talk to, but my closest and most trusted friends were also family and it was just awkward to admit to them that we were having problems.

After a rather disastrous weekend that alternated between uncomfortable silence to bickering and snapping at one another over nothing, I was becoming desperate. I had tried numerous times to broach the subject of our problems with him, but chickened out at the last minute. Maybe I was just scared of what he would tell me, afraid he'd say he was leaving, that he was done and I couldn't deal with that. Was it better to plod along as we were, unhappy and yet together, or get everything out in the open and deal with the aftermath? I couldn't decide what would be worse. And yet I knew I had to do something, since he wasn't prepared to make any effort.

Monday night, I decided to leave the office an hour early – it wasn't as though I was getting any work done, after all. And that, coupled with the desperation I was feeling, is how I found myself in the kind of Muggle shop I would never usually entertain.

I stood, feeling totally out of my depth, amongst a plethora of barely there lingerie, massage oils with erotic sounding names and a whole variety of adult toys. I confess to having stared at the display in some state of astonishment – not having realised the variety they came in, or even how some people would use them or why. Surely they couldn't be very, well...pleasant?

Moving across the shop away from the toys that were making me flush, I began to rummage through the clothing, hoping to find something and escape the shop as quickly as possible. Though, some of the lingerie almost had me flushing just as much – why would people bother wearing anything at all when it covered up so little anyway? What was the point?

I was just starting to think this was a stupid idea and berating myself for even giving Vanessa's advice any attention as I began to escape, when something caught my eye. I pushed back other items on the rack and plucked it off the stand, admiring it. It was a light chiffon and lace camisole and French knickers set. It was actually really pretty, with a v neck that had flower embroidery and lace. It was also slightly sheer – just enough to see a silhouette through, but not showing everything either. And, best of all, the element that had caught my eye – it was in Ron's favourite Chudley Cannons orange! Surely I couldn't go wrong with that.

"Treating yourself or for your partner's benefit?" An assistant, having spotted me admiring the ensemble, asked me as she tidied some shelves. She grasped hold of a rather large looking fake penis and shoved it back onto the correct shelf nonchalantly.

"Oh, erm..." I stammered, still feeling very uncomfortable in here. "I guess, erm...both?" I made a little gesture as though I wasn't sure about my answer.

She smiled. "That style's very popular, particularly within your age group. And, I think that colour would really suit you."

"It's my husband's favourite colour," I admitted, choosing to ignore her dig about my age group – what did she mean by that?

She nodded knowingly. "Then you can't go wrong, can you? What man can resist his favourite woman barely wearing his favourite colour?" she laughed, still fiddling with more wobbling plastic phallic shaped objects on the shelf. How did people work in here and not giggle over these items all the time? Because, well some of them did look utterly absurd!

"I...maybe. Hopefully," I sighed, wistfully. Was it possible this was all it took to get through to my husband that I wanted him and still loved him?

"And better yet, all items on that rack are on sale," she added with another smile. "50% off."

"I'll take it," I decided, giving in and also just needing to get out of here.

"Perfect. You won't regret it. Need any toys or lube to go with it?" she then asked me.

I stared at her in utter dismay, feeling myself flushing again at her asking me something so personal. "Erm, no," I finally managed to squeak in reply. "Just, erm...just the underwear." I hurried towards the cashier, utterly embarrassed.

All I can say is, as I finally exited and tucked the carrier bag baring the shops logo into my work satchel out of sight, that this better be bloody worth it!

By the time I got home, I had changed my mind umpteen times about the underwear, debating whether or not to just take it back. Finally, deciding I couldn't face going back to that shop again and feeling foolish for having bought the stupid outfit in the first place, I shoved it, bag and all, into the back of my bottom drawer in my bedside table – a place I knew Ron would never look and he'd never have to know about it. Unless I got the courage to show him sometime. Not that I could ever see that happening. What had I been thinking? Desperation was really getting to me.

* * *

 _Apologies for the long AN above._

 _Reviews make me smile...when they're not moaning at me for a misunderstanding in the authors note! :p_

 _More soon..._


	4. Chapter 4

_Sorry for the slight delay - meant to get this up on Monday, but got busy. Anyways, it's here now :) Good news, finished editing it all (though I shall no doubt still re-check each chapter before posting, because I can never leave it alone!)_

 _Thank you, as always, for all the incredible reviews, follows and faves - they're my favourite kind of emails and very much appreciated!_

 _Usual Disclaimer applies. Warning for some language in this chapter._

 _On with the show..._

 **Chapter Four**

The house was quiet when I arrived home a couple of nights later. I had expected to find Ron in the kitchen, as usual at this time of night, but the room was empty and in darkness. I wondered if perhaps he was working late, though I knew he usually only worked a half day on a Wednesday if he could get away with it. Maybe he'd met up with someone for a drink, I thought, just before I heard the shower running upstairs as I hung my cloak in the hallway and put my shoes away.

"Ron?" I called, heading upstairs and into our bedroom. "Ron?" I asked as I opened the door to our en-suite and was met with clouds of steam – he always had liked a scolding hot shower.

"Be out in a minute!" came his muffled reply.

Satisfied that I knew where he was, I stepped back in to our room and began to get changed out of my work clothes. Minutes later he appeared from the bathroom with a towel hung low on his hips and a smaller one he was rubbing his hair with. Maybe it was just my realising how long it had been since we'd made love or maybe my hormones were just running wild, but I enjoyed taking in the half naked view of my husband, biting my bottom lip as I watched a lone drop of water slide down his skin, over his navel and disappear into the towel.

Damn...40 years old and over 15 years of marriage and I still found him as sexy as ever. The muscles he'd developed whilst being an Auror were still there and, although he was getting a bit of a stomach these days (which I found rather endearing, just so you know) he was still in fine shape as far as I was concerned.

"What did you want?" he asked, lowering the towel to reveal his messy, wet ginger locks. If only he knew what that did to me. Dammit, it had been far too long – now even his hair was turning me on.

"Oh," I shook myself and forced my eyes up to his face. "I was just wondering where you were, that's all." I smiled up at him and then slid by him to put my clothes in the laundry hamper and use the toilet in the bathroom. I caught the scent of him as I passed – a heady sensual mix of musk and spice from the soap he preferred to use.

When I returned to our room, he was sat on the bed, pulling on a clean pair of underwear and I caught myself staring at him, until he looked up and caught me, one eyebrow raised.

"Erm," I bit my lip again. "You cleaned the bathroom," I uttered, having noted the shiny surfaces in there. "And...changed the bedding?" I realised, catching a glimpse of the clean sheets.

"Yeah," he shrugged slightly, getting up to find a t-shirt. "So?"

"Oh, nothing...just, I hope you know I do appreciate it, everything you do around the house I mean. And…that I don't expect you to do everything around here."

"It's fine," he muttered from beneath the T-shirt he was now pulling on over his head, hiding his gorgeous chest with it's scattering of gingers hairs and fading freckles from my view. I almost pouted! Bloody hell I needed him. "I mean, you're busy with work, so," he continued, picking up his wet towel and slinging it into the basket.

"But you work too. You're just as busy," I pointed out.

"Not as important as your job though, is it?" he mumbled, now rummaging in the wardrobe for some trousers.

"Ron," I began, surprised by his comment. He loved his job, he was so much happier managing the Diagon branch of Wizard Wheezes than he'd ever been working as an Auror and I knew he was successful at it. Even George boasted how his little brother had managed to increase their profit margin since he'd become partners with him. "Has someone said something? Is that what all this is about?" I asked when he turned to look at me.

"All what?" He frowned at me and sat down to pull his jeans on as I picked up the wet towel he'd dropped from drying his hair and some of his clothes that hadn't quite hit the basket. As usual, his socks were on the floor.

"This...this mood you're in!"

"I'm not in a mood," he muttered, avoiding my glare by focusing on fastening his jeans.

"Oh no?" I asked, doubtfully. "You've been quiet and miserable for days. I know you miss the children, but..."

"Are you saying you don't?" he turned and fixed his gaze on me.

"Of course I miss them. Why else am I writing to them every other day? But..." I faded off, not sure how to word my turmoil of thoughts.

"But what?" he stood from the bed, glaring at me.

"I..." I opened my mouth, pausing to choose my words carefully. "But...you could talk to me for a start, let me know how you feel or what's bothering you. You could, oh I don't know, maybe act like you care I'm here or something!"

"Huh!" he scoffed. "Sometimes you're here," he mumbled so quietly I barely heard him.

So, was that it then? Was he was feeling neglected and didn't think I was spending enough time at home or with him. "Ron, do you...do you think I take you for granted or..."

"No!" he snapped, cutting me off. "I volunteered to do this. I said I'd support whatever you wanted to do, and I meant it."

"Then, have I done something to upset you?" I wondered, trying to get to the bottom of what was going on between us.

He inhaled deeply and rubbed his forehead. "No," he uttered. "I just..." he faded off and huffed out his breath of air.

"Just what? Because...I feel, Ron I feel like you're drifting away from me. That you don't love me anymore," I admitted, close to tears.

"What?" His head shot up as he stared at me in bewilderment. "Where the hell is that coming from?"

"Well, you barely speak to me anymore. We don't do anything as a couple anymore. I kiss you and you get all embarrassed. I suggest a weekend away and you're dead against it. It's as though you don't want to be with me or something and..."

"You suggested a night in bloody Hogsmeade, Hermione!" he rolled his eyes. "A place I have to visit at least once a week on business. It's hardly a bloody romantic getaway, is it?"

"Well at least it was something," I huffed. "At least I was trying to do something to save our marriage. I'm worried about us Ron," I confessed.

He rolled his eyes again as he yanked open the bedroom door. "You're being fuckin' mental again! You know, your mind must work overtime to come up with all this rubbish," he added before storming off downstairs.

"Really? Then why is it true?" I followed him. "Tell me Ron, when did we last go out together or just spend some quality time together?" I chased him into the kitchen. "When did we last have sex?" I asked then.

He froze at the kitchen counter and I knew he didn't have an answer to any of that, because neither of us could remember. I wondered if he missed sex as much as I did.

"Tell me, honestly…have you," I swallowed the lump that had appeared in my throat, "have you had enough of this? Of us?"

"Don't be bloody ridiculous!" he spun around to face me. "I love you, you daft woman!" he shouted. "I just...I…" he faded off again.

"You what?" I was crying now. Some of it in anger, some of it in relief that he'd just told me he loved me, even if it wasn't quite the way I'd have liked to have heard it.

"I don't know," he flung his arms in the air. "I just...I don't bloody know, all right? Everything is different. Things have changed." He sat down rather heavily at the kitchen table, as though defeated, holding his head in his hand as his elbow balanced on the table.

"I know, sweetheart," I went over, touching his back gently and kissed the top of his head.

Things were quiet for awhile as I rubbed his back with one hand and wiped away my tears with the other. Ron sniffed rather loudly and I guessed he was crying too, not that he'd ever admit to it. Eventually I too, took a seat at the table, turning my chair so that I was facing him.

"Have I totally fucked this up?" he eventually mumbled as he tried to surreptitiously wipe his face on his sleeve.

"Fucked up what?" I asked him.

"This, us," he waved his hand between us. "Do you want...are you going to leave me?" He sounded so dejected, as though he had lost all hope.

"No," I told him certainly. "Never. I love you too, you idiot. Look, neither of us is faultless here – we've both let things slide and not said anything. I'm hopeful we can work this out, but I need a reason from you, that's all, just something..."

"A reason from me? About what?" he asked, not following me. I suppose I wasn't really making much sense.

I nodded. "A reason for me to believe that we're not beyond help. That you're willing to work with me and try to fix what's changed to get our relationship, to get us, back on track."

"I still love you," he repeated his earlier statement. "I really do. Isn't that reason enough?"

"I know darling, and I love you too. And, hopefully our love for one another will be enough. But...you're going to have to talk about things, tell me how you feel."

"Huh," he snorted, "never really been very good at that, have I?"

"No. But then I haven't exactly been an expert myself," I smiled at him through my tears, taking his hands in mine. "Ron, I don't ever want to lose you. You're my best friend, my husband, the father of our children and the man I love. But, I think we need to learn how to be a couple again, how to love one another again...so we can get back on track."

"And how do we do that? We can't just go back upstairs and have mind blowing sex?" he asked, the tiniest hint of a smirk gracing his lips.

My smile widened. "I'd love that," I told him honestly. "But, sex won't fix everything. So, I've been thinking, that maybe...maybe we should talk to someone?" I hesitantly suggested the thoughts I'd been having the last few days.

"Talk to someone?" he frowned.

I nodded. "Yes, someone trained to help in these situations. Like a marriage counsellor or something?"

"What?" he dropped my hands. "No! No way! I am not talking about our personal...stuff with bloody strangers!" He got to his feet again.

I sighed as I leant back in my chair, knowing I shouldn't have said that. I knew he'd hate the idea. Ron, for all his jokes and bravado, was actually a very sensitive and private person. "Well, we can't go on like we are, we have to do something to fix this."

"Oh, and how in the bloody hell is talking to some damn stranger who doesn't even know us and spilling details about our private life going to fix anything?"

"Because they're trained to deal with marital issues. I really think they'd help us get to the root of our problems. And..."

"Yeah? Well I don't!" He stormed off again. "I am not talking to any fuckin' strangers! Not ever!" he yelled back down the hallway. "And that is final!" he finished as the front door slammed after him.

I groaned and wanted to bang my head against the table in front of me. For just a moment I thought we were getting somewhere. Then everything had gone so wrong again.

"Dammit!" I cursed out loud to the silent kitchen.

* * *

Ron was summoned into to work at the shop on Saturday, much to his annoyance. Not that he had much choice, Verity had floo'd in sick, so he had to go cover for her. I can't say I was too sorry to have the house to myself for the day, because since our row a couple of nights ago (and he'd slinked back in a couple of hours later once he'd calmed down), things at home had been somewhat awkward and uncomfortable between us. He apparently wasn't over my suggestion of the counsellor and was giving me the silent treatment when he wasn't forced to speak to me.

So, whilst he was at work, I had decided that if he was too stubborn to even consider talking with a professional, then I was going to seek some advice from the next best thing – his mother. Who better to ask than the woman who had probably been through all this herself and knew her son almost as well as I did?

"Molly?" I whispered, opening the door to the lounge and poking my head around as I searched around The Burrow for her. She was sat in an armchair, the knitting resting on her lap and her head back against the cushion, resting her eyes.

The door squeaked as I pushed it open further and she startled awake, her hands grabbing her knitting again and then looked up at me, rather disorientated for a moment. "Hermione," she smiled, pushing herself up in her chair. "Hello dear, what a lovely surprise."

"Hi Molly," I set down my cloak and bag and went to kiss her cheek.

"How are you, dear?" she asked, patting my cheek. "Is everything okay? The children? Ron?" she queried, looking at me in a way that felt as though she knew too much already.

"I..." I sighed and took a seat adjacent to her on the sofa. "I could use some advice," I admitted.

She nodded, knowingly. "Let me go put the kettle on then," she smiled, shifting her knitting aside to stand up.

"Oh, no, you stay put. I'll go make the tea," I insisted and hurried out to the kitchen before she could protest. Ron may not see it so much, or maybe he didn't want to, but his parents had aged a lot just recently. I knew witches and wizards had a much longer life expectancy than Muggles of course, but I still worried about them getting older. I couldn't imagine the Weasley family without their matriarch, Molly.

"Is Arthur around? Would he like some tea?" I wondered, carrying a tray through, complete with some home made biscuits I had found.

"Oh," she huffed, "he's probably out in his shed, playing with those silly Muggle trinkets of his. He spends most days out there now. He doesn't get much better in his old age," she rolled her eyes, though they were smiling at the mention of her husband. Molly poured the tea as I nibbled on a ginger biscuit, realising it was one of Ron's favourites – but then there weren't many biscuits he didn't like. "We'll leave him be, then we can have some girl talk," she patted my knee and handed me a cup and saucer. "Now, what's bothering you?" she asked and I had that sense again that she knew everything that was going on with her children and their families.

I sat back in the sofa, stirring my tea and taking a sip before I answered her. "I was just...wondering," I began, "when Ginny first went off to school and you and Arthur were alone for the first time again, how were things for you?" I asked, being a little evasive. Maybe it was silly, but even after having birthed two children, talking to your mother-in-law about your sex life with her son was awkwardly embarrassing.

She thought about it for a moment, drank some tea and set her cup back down. "Well, it was certainly very quiet," she chuckled, "and, obviously we missed the children. Somehow it was worse when Ginny went though. Not only is she my only daughter, but she's my last baby and it was hard to let her go."

"Yes," I nodded, knowing how she felt. Seeing Hugo so grown up now in his Hogwarts robes had been heart wrenching for me - my little baby boy all grown up and off to school.

"Are you missing Hugo?" she wondered.

I nodded again and drank some more tea. "We both are, missing the pair of them. But, Ron seems to be taking it worse. I mean, he was upset when Rose left, but now Hugo has gone too, he seems miserable, a bit lost."

Molly nodded understandingly. "I remember people saying I must be excited to get the last one off to school, so I could have some peace and time to myself again. But, the truth is, I dreaded it. I missed them all so much and worried about them, obviously. Plus, with Arthur at work so much back then, it got a bit lonely during the day, I didn't really know what to do with myself," she confessed.

I drank some tea, wondering if that was how Ron felt. I did usually work longer hours than him after all. He had willingly taken over a lot of the responsibility around the house and our family whilst I worked towards my goals and I loved him for that. But was it now taking a toll on our marriage? My career was very important to me, as ambitious as I was, but not at the risk of my family or my marriage. Nothing was more important to me than that.

"Ron..." I began, wondering how to phrase what I wanted to say, whether to admit I thought we were having problems. "Well, he seems rather distant right now. I mean, things don't seem the same, you know, between us and..." I faded off with a weary sigh. This whole issue was really getting to me and I didn't realise how much worrying about us was taking it out of me.

Molly leant forward and patted my hand. "Don't worry, I understand," she smiled and nodded. "I think it's normal for couples to feel a bit lost when the children leave home, it's that empty nest syndrome. You two have been focused on raising your children and being parents for quite awhile now, it will take time to…to remember how to be around one another again, as a couple rather than parents."

"Yes, that's it exactly!" I nodded vehemently, glad that someone understood what I was feeling. "We don't communicate much anymore or do anything together, including erm, er..."

"Quality time?" she supplied helpfully with a wink as I blushed.

"Yeah," I sighed, glad I hadn't had to say the word out loud. "I can't remember the last time we even kissed or cuddled, let alone anything else. I miss that, miss feeling close to him. And I hate the way things are between us right now. I think he's slipping away from me." I bit my lip, afraid I might cry again.

"Oh, Hermione, my dear," she grasped my hand. "My son adores you, of that I am certain. He's as besotted with you today as he was when he was around 15 yeas old and afraid to admit it to himself."

"Then what's wrong?" I wailed. "I don't think he even finds me attractive anymore or anything. I tried to kiss him the other night and he got all embarrassed about it. I suggested a weekend away together and he basically laughed at the idea. I don't understand." I shook my head sadly and realised I was crying, again.

Molly summoned a handkerchief from somewhere and passed it over. "Now, I'm sure that's not true. We've all seen the way he looks at you, after all."

"Yeah, someone else mentioned something like that," I mumbled, wondering if we'd really been that sickening to others over the years.

"As for the kiss, if the two of you have been going through a little...drought, maybe it took him by surprise and he didn't know how to react to it?" she asked, one eyebrow raised.

"I suppose I did kind of pounce on him, out of the blue," I admitted.

She gave me that knowing look again. "And maybe he's not actually against you going away together, he just didn't fancy going wherever it was you suggested? You need to remember not to assume things Hermione, especially when it comes to Ron. And stop worrying yourself about things until you know for sure there's reason to be concerned."

I sighed, thinking over her words. That was one of my worst habits – I worried about everything and got upset over things that weren't there. "You're right. But, I still don't know how to approach solving the issues between us at all. How did you work it all out?"

She smiled. "It took Arthur and I a little time to adjust to the changes too. But, we talked and we let each other know how we felt. And then, once things settled into a new routine, we realised all of the, well the benefits of having an empty house," she chuckled and I could, unfortunately, imagine exactly what she meant. Somehow, even imagining your in-laws doing it was as horrifying as thinking of your own parents. She laughed at my expression and we each drank our tea.

"Ginny told me that her and Harry are having a wonderful time without their children," I sighed sadly, comparing my marriage again. "Claims they're behaving almost like newly-weds again," I added.

She smiled, wryly. "You may or may not have noticed, but my daughter likes to exaggerate a little." She shook her head. "As much as I love the girl, I wouldn't take everything she tells you as fact. Every marriage goes through a share of problems and periods of adjustments. No marriage is perfect. And I know her and Harry are no different. And don't you go thinking that you're a failure or anything - you and Ron are doing just fine."

I inhaled deeply, feeling rather wistful at her words and wishing they were true. "Ron is a wonderful husband and a brilliant father. He really is. He does so much, and, though he may complain from time to time, I know he doesn't mind too much. He's always been supportive, but maybe I've neglected him too much and he's had enough or he's..."

"He still loves you, just the same as he always has," she told me firmly. "Deep down you know he does and I also know that you love him. Ron is not going anywhere."

"I do love him, which is why I want to fix this. I hate seeing him so down and withdrawn. And I hate this...distance between us. I miss him, miss us and I don't want to lose him."

"Then you won't. You just need to talk to him, dear."

"Huh!" I scoffed. "This is Ron we're talking about. You know what it's like to convince your youngest son to talk about his feelings."

Molly laughed, her hand on her chest and rocking back in her chair until she almost had me worried about her. "Oh yes, I know my Ronald. Keeps his emotions close to his heart does my boy. But, that's the only way you can find out what's going on in that daft head of his. I mean short of performing Legilimency and I'm sure you don't want to do that to your husband, do you?"

"Of course not," I shook my head. "So, your advice is to just talk to him?" I asked, feeling a little disappointed. I had come here expecting to hear some age old wisdom, instead I was getting advice that was about as useful as Vanessa suggesting I needed to spice things up in the bedroom.

Why couldn't anyone simply tell me exactly what to do or say? I wondered whether there was a book on the subject I could pick up from somewhere? I made a mental note to check the library.

Molly nodded. "I know that's easier said than done, but..."

"You're right, it is. Because I have tried talking to him. I've tried numerous times to ask him what's wrong and if he's okay. We just finish up arguing," I sighed.

She didn't seem at all surprised to hear that – after all, we were somewhat infamous for our arguments. Even if it wasn't as often these days.

"But, did you try telling him how you feel?" she asked, wisely.

"Well, yes. Sort of. I think..." I trailed off, trying to remember exactly what had been said between us the other night and failed. "I mean, I did tell him that I was worried and that I thought we were drifting apart." I remembered that much, but I also recalled some other rather unkind things I'd said as well and sighed in defeat. "Maybe I didn't explain myself very well to him."

"Perhaps," she raised her eyebrows as she peered at me. "What you need, is to take the time to sit down with one another, where nothing else can interrupt and it's no good doing it when either of you are tired or have had a bad day. Then you need to explain to him what you've told me. That you miss him and don't like to see him unhappy. Tell him you don't want to lose him and how much you love him. Because, it's possible he's feeling the same things and he doesn't know how to express them, or he's afraid of upsetting you for feeling that way."

I bit my bottom lip and nodded solemnly, thinking she could be right. "I, erm...I did suggest that we go to see a marriage counsellor, you know, to help us," I shrugged, shamefully.

Molly's eyes widened in alarm. "I thought you knew Ron?"

"I do," I replied, rather affronted.

"Then why suggest something you know he'd hate and want to run away from? The thought of discussing anything personal with someone on the outside would only scare him. He's very private when it comes to matters of his heart," she needlessly reminded me.

"I know," I sighed dejectedly. "I knew it was a mistake the minute I'd said it. I knew he'd hate the idea. But, I just wanted to fix this so bad that I was willing to try anything." She didn't need to know about the lingerie I'd bought as well!

"And you will fix things, I have every faith in you both," she gave me a reassuring smile as we heard the back door open.

"Molly, love?" Arthur called. "Shall I put the kettle on?"

She peered at the clock on the mantelpiece then and seemed rather surprised to realise the time. "He'll be wanting some lunch," she sighed, shuffling forward in her chair to get up.

"What's for lunch, love?" he asked then.

"Told you!" Molly laughed shaking her head.

"Molly?" he called again, sounding slightly concerned.

"I'm in the lounge Arthur, hold your hippogrifs a minute. You won't starve by waiting a few more minutes!" she rolled her eyes as she got up with a tired 'oof' sound.

I smiled at them both, listening to the familiar way they spoke to one another – comfortable and playful, the way an old married couple should be. I hoped Ron and I would get there one day, that we'd make it as far as his parents had and still love one another. All I'd ever really wanted was to grow old with him.

"Isn't lunch ready then?" he asked, sounding a little frustrated.

"You know, it wouldn't kill you to make lunch yourself for a change," she mumbled, slowly making her way through to the kitchen.

I realised in that moment jut how very lucky I was to have Ron. Though I knew that Molly and Arthur had a strong, loving, respectful marriage, it was also very traditional – women being stereotypical women and men being stereotypical men. Ron had never moaned at me for not having dinner or lunch ready, because he usually made it himself. We tried to take it in turns, but it usually fell to him and if I hadn't got around to doing it when I was supposed to, he just got on with making it for us or asked me what I fancied. He would never expect me to be the doting housewife, staying home with the children and housework – he was proud of how far I'd come in my career and I knew his support had made it possible. I couldn't have done it without him volunteering to be home with the children more. And, with those thoughts, I had a new rush of love for him, further appreciation for the man that he was and a fiery determination to make everything better between us again. I had an amazing husband in Ron and I wasn't about to let him go.

"Right, what do you fancy then?" I heard Molly ask as she began to pull pots and pans out whilst I carried our tea tray back through.

"I don't know. You usually make...oh, hello Hermione!" Arthur cheered up when he realised they had company. He came over to give me a hug and kissed my cheek. "You didn't tell me we had a visitor," he playfully poked his wife's ribs with his finger. She squirmed and batted his hand away.

"Didn't give me chance, did you? Not with demanding I feed you this very moment!" she rolled her eyes. Though her feigned annoyance with him didn't work on me, I saw the love she still had for him in her eyes as he smiled at her.

"I'm sorry, love," he kissed the top of her head and took the pan from her, placing the heavy item onto the stove.

Love. It was hardly surprising that Ron's pet name for me was, and always had been, 'love'. After all, it was a term of endearment he'd been hearing between his parents his whole life, it obviously signified a happy, secure bond to him. And I was actually rather fond of it.

"To what do we owe this visit?" he asked then, sitting at the table with a fresh pot of tea as he waited for his wife to make him lunch. She was slicing a loaf of bread and cracking eggs into a huge frying pan all with a flourish of her wand.

"Never you mind!" Molly waved the spatula at him. "Hermione came to see me for some girl talk, that's all."

"Oh, erm, right." Arthur coughed and I noticed his ears turning pink – the same trait my husband had inherited. "Are Rose and Hugo all right?" he asked then, abruptly changing the subject.

"Yes, they're fine. Both seem to have settled down into the school year now. We should see them soon actually, we've been invited to Rosie's next Quidditch match," I explained, collecting my cloak from where I'd placed it over the kitchen chair.

"Oh, that will be lovely!" he beamed.

"Yes. It will," Molly added. "I do wish they'd done that when you lot were at school. I missed out on a lot, not seeing my children play for the team," she sighed wistfully.

"Can I pour you some tea?" Arthur asked, gesturing with the teapot.

"No thank you, actually I'd better be going. I promised my parents I'd pop in this afternoon and I need to do some shopping as well." I smiled at them both, I adored my in-laws – Molly had never been the wicked mother-in-law you often read about and was some times easier to talk to than my own Mum. And Arthur, Arthur had always been very sweet – a doting father whom had extended his affection to his children's spouses and especially his grandchildren.

"Come on," Molly turned, pointed her wand at the food cooking, causing it to temporarily freeze in the process, "I'll walk you out," she told me.

"Give Rose and Hugo my love!" Arthur called as she guided me out of the kitchen door.

"I will," I smiled at him. "But we'll be over tomorrow for lunch," I reminded him. I think, now that he was retired, he was losing track of the days.

"Foolish man!" Molly shook her head as the door closed behind us, upon him calling goodbye to me.

"But, you love him," I knew.

"Yes," she nodded, "I love him. Just as you love Ron. Which is why I know you two are going to be okay. Honestly, from the start I had a feeling you two were most likely to make it."

"You did?" I asked, surprised. She'd never admitted that to me before.

She smiled. "Out of all my children, yes. Because, you might not see it, but you are the most like myself and Arthur."

"Oh, I..."

She held up her hand when she saw I was about to protest. "You are," she repeated, firmly. "Perhaps your marriage is more...modern than ours was. But, the way you behave with one another. The way you love one another and the way you treat one another, even the bickering, it's just like Arthur and myself. Which is why I have faith in you making it to the end. You'll be just fine," she assured me again. And, she was so insistent, I found I was starting to believe her.

"Thank you, Molly," I leaned in and gave her a big hug, "for everything."

"Any time, dear. Any time. Now, you get off to your parents. Tell them I said hello. We must try and meet up with them again soon."

"I'll tell them. They'll probably like that," I smiled. "Thank you."

"I'll see you tomorrow. Don't be late!" she warned.

"We won't. Bye Molly!" I waved before walking out the front gate and then turned in a tight spin and Disapparated over to my parents house.

* * *

More soon...next chapter is from Ron's POV so we can get inside his head!

Reviews are very much loved :)


	5. Chapter 5

_Thank you once again for all the lovely reviews, as well as all the follows and faves – they are always very much appreciated!_

 _Here's the next chapter. And yes, I might have sort of borrowed a line or two from Cursed Child in this...or the phrasing of something anyway. Let me know if you spot it!_

 _Usual disclaimer applies._

* * *

 **Chapter Five**

Ron POV

"So, what's up with you?" Harry asked, stifling a yawn as we found a free table towards the back of the Leaky Cauldron. It was late on a Saturday afternoon and we'd decided to meet up for a drink since the pair of us had been called into our jobs on a weekend off.

"Women!" I grumbled after taking a mouthful of my ale.

Harry snorted. "You know, as we got older, I thought this would get easier, but..."

"We still can't understand bloody women!" I finished for him.

"Nope, and I've given up trying," he added after taking a mouthful of his own drink. "And your bloody sister is wearing me out," he muttered, stifling yet another yawn.

"Can't be as mental as Hermione's being right now," I replied.

"Oh no?" he looked up, daring me to try and beat him. He settled back in his chair and inhaled deeply. "Your damn sister virtually attacks me whenever I get home. Doesn't matter how long a day I've had or anything, she starts demanding sex and..."

"Eurgh, Harry. Please?" I grumbled, acting as though I was going to puke.

"Oh for fuck's sake, mate!" he rolled his eyes. "We have three kids...none of which were a result of the immaculate conception. Yes, we have sex, get over it."

"I bloody know that, thanks. Doesn't mean I want to hear all about it!"

"Right now, I'm actually having _too_ much sex," he shook his head and then rubbed his lower back. "She seems to have gotten it into her head that now the kids are away at school and we have a quiet house, that we should be having sex at every given opportunity. And...well, I can't keep up these days," he grumbled and I was trying really hard not to laugh at him. "I swear she threw my back out in the shower last night." He pulled a face as he gave it another rub.

As revolting as it was to hear about my sisters sex life with my best mate, I couldn't help it and I burst out laughing. "You're just getting old mate!" I slapped his shoulder. "Getting past all those antics now."

"Old? Oh that's charming. You do realise you're five months older than me, right?"

"Ah, but I'm ageing better!" I told him smugly, pulling a proud expression as I brushed imaginary lint from my shirt.

Harry burst out laughing at that one, almost spraying me with the mouthful of his drink he'd just taken. "Yeah, right! Course you are!"

"I suppose neither one of us are 21 anymore. Remember those days?" I sighed, reminiscing of days without responsibilities and freedom.

"Vaguely," he replied. "And I certainly didn't throw my back out getting a decent shag back then!" he muttered.

I laughed, even though it wasn't a funny picture. "Have you ever considered just telling her no?"

"Have you ever tried telling your sister no to anything?" he asked me, wide eyed. Sometimes I thought he was almost afraid of my sister, I knew she could be a fiery ball of energy sometimes, but, he was Head of the Aurors - surely if he could deal with the biggest, baddest dark witches and wizards, then he could deal with my headstrong sister.

"I see your point," I nodded. "But...just tell her you're too tired or not in the mood or you have a headache. Mind you, I'd take the problem of too much sex over Hermione's latest bloody mental ideas." I rolled my eyes and downed a large mouthful. "She's got it into her head that our marriage is doomed, and..."

"What?" Harry turned to stare at me. "Are you two...having problems?"

"Nah, none that I can see anyway," I flapped away his concern with my hand. "But, we got into it the other night..."

Harry, interrupting me, was hardly surprised. "As you two do."

"Yeah, as we do," I nodded in agreement. It might not be as often these days, but we still argued over stupid crap – sometimes I actually enjoyed it to be honest. Not making her upset or anything, I hated that. But, I liked to see her get all fiery and challenge me and, if the sparks flew when we fought, you could imagine the fireworks we created when we were making up! "Anyway, she suggested we saw a marriage counsellor. There is no fuckin' way I am ever going to tell some bloody stranger all our personal stuff. No bloody way!" I shook my head vehemently.

"Don't bloody blame you!" Harry shuddered at the thought. "What the hell is she thinking, anyway?"

"Damned if I know! She says I've been quiet and distant of late. Maybe I have, but...it's just because I miss the kids, you know?"

"Me too. I miss my Lily," Harry sighed. "Though I admit it's nice to have a break from my boys and all their squabbling for a bit," he grumbled and rolled his eyes. I knew he was only jesting – Harry adored his family, they were everything he'd ever longed for, but we all needed a good grumble occasionally.

"Yeah, Rose has her moments," I agreed. "She's already becoming the perfect stroppy little teenager."

"Takes after her dad then!" Harry laughed.

"Oi!" I shoved his shoulder. "I resent that."

Harry continued to laugh as he rubbed at his arm where I'd pushed him. "Oh come on, you had more than your fair share of moments of being a git as a teenager."

"Didn't we all?" I asked.

"True," Harry nodded. "We were little shits at times. It's a wonder the teachers put up with us, always sticking our noses into adult affairs and that."

"Still, at least our kids don't have to deal with the kind of scary shit we had to at school."

"Thank Merlin!" Harry held up his drink in a toast.

I clinked my glass with his and took a couple of swigs before continuing with what I'd been saying before. "After Hermione changed careers and I started working at the shop, we agreed it made sense for me to be at home with the kids more, since my hours were more flexible and stuff. But, now I don't have them at home, it's just...weird, you know?"

Harry nodded, draining his glass. "I can imagine. I sometimes envied you getting to spend more time with your kids. I often think I spent too long in the office and not enough time at home," he sighed.

"Yeah, not sorry I left the Aurors at all!" I laughed. "Those long hours about killed me and I wouldn't trade spending time with my family for anything," I said. "But, sometimes I feel like Hermione's job is more important than mine. Like I'm just messing about running a silly joke shop."

"I think you mean a highly successful, profitable and very popular magical joke shop!" Harry corrected me.

"Well, yeah, we make some decent money. But, selling daft tricks and stuff to kids isn't exactly going to set the world on fire, is it? It's not as important as fighting cases to put the criminals away or defending the innocent, is it?"

"Did Hermione say that?" Harry asked, rather surprised. "I mean, it's not just daft tricks and kids stuff is it? You and George have come up with some stuff that helped my department no end - great concealments, time saving tricks and all that. I'd say that was pretty important, that stuff has saved some of my men more times than I care to count!"

"Thanks mate!" I patted his back, taking the compliment. "And, no, Hermione has never actually said that, but you know others have suggested it."

"I'd ignore Skeeter if I were you." He knew exactly whom I was talking about. "The best use for her articles is to line the bottom of the owl cage with!" Harry scoffed. "Ginny complains about her at least 15 times a week, I find it best to ignore her. Skeeter that is, not Ginny!" He looked almost petrified at the thought of ignoring his wife.

"Yeah, I know. I try not to read her rubbish anymore. But, I still feel that way sometimes, not good enough, you know? Especially now I'm home alone a lot, dealing with domestic shit whilst she's working late at the office. And she's been working longer and longer hours lately. I just, I feel a right prat admitting this, but it's sort of lonely, you know?" I felt my ears tingle, the tell tale sign of a red flush appearing as I confessed all to my brother-in-law and best mate.

"And boring I'd expect?" he asked.

I shrugged. "I don't mind doing it, doesn't bother me. Even if George still likes to wind me up about it and tells me I'm whipped. But, I know Hermione appreciates what I do around the house. Besides, I live there too, why shouldn't I help with the cleaning and stuff? Just, since the kids left, it's not the same. We used to have a laugh in the afternoon after I picked them up from school, we got up to all kinds of mischief without their Mum frowning at us. I miss that."

"Still, at least now you can sit in peace and listen to a Quidditch match and not get jumped on for sex!" Harry grumbled. "Fancy another?" he held up his empty glass and I nodded in reply.

"Yeah, something stronger this time," I passed him my empty glass.

Okay, so perhaps another _one_ turned into a couple more drinks. And then we got hungry and ordered some chips each. And then we'd been thirsty, so had to have a couple more drinks. So, it was rather late when I finally made it home, more than a little tipsy, and I was hardly surprised to find Hermione already up in our room. Mind you, I think she'd said she was going out shopping with Ginny this afternoon or something, so I didn't think she'd mind too much. Or perhaps that's what I had been hoping for.

"Sorry!" I apologised quickly as I rushed through our bedroom, busting for the toilet.

"Where have you been?" she asked from where she was lying across our bed.

"Had a few drinks with Harry," I called back to her whilst standing before the toilet.

"I thought you'd be home hours ago," I heard her mutter, sounding rather irritable.

"Bollocks!" I hissed to myself as I moved over to wash my hands. I didn't want to finish up fighting about this as well.

"Have you eaten?" she asked me then.

"Yeah, we got some food at the Leaky. Sorry, we just got talking, probably had a couple too many and...what are you wearing?" I asked, eyeing her curiously when I stepped back into our room and gave her a closer look. I'd caught a flash of orange when I'd ran through and assumed she was wearing one of my old Cannons shirts to sleep in, like she used to. But now I took a closer look, it most definitely wasn't one of my shirts. I've certainly never owned anything like that!

She was still draped across our bed. Her hair was down, hanging in carefully brushed, soft waves around her shoulders. The main lamps were out, instead a dozen or more little candles lit up the room and there was a rather strong scent coming from somewhere.

"It's underwear Ron," she told me, giving an awkward smile as she adjusted a strap that had been sliding down her shoulder.

"Well, doesn't look very practical, does it?" I laughed and then sneezed from the strong smell and all the smoke off the candles in the room. "Have you been baking?" I wondered, sitting down on the bottom of the bed to take my shoes off. "Smells likes Mum's Christmas biscuits...and now I'm hungry again!" I groaned.

"Oh for Merlin's sake!" she huffed and suddenly jumped from the bed.

"What?" I asked, baffled by her actions yet again. I looked up at her then and my eyes widened as I took in the sight of her in that underwear. Not that there was much to take in, if you catch my drift – it left very little to the imagination! I could see her body through the sheer orange fabric, could see the outline of her breasts and even her nipples. I looked down – damn – could even make out the thatch of hair at the junction of her thighs. I swallowed thickly and felt the beginnings of stirring within my shorts. Suddenly I wished I had Harry's problem with too much sex.

She stormed past me, now grumpy with me about something – probably the fact I'd been out drinking. But, even still, I am a bloke and this is the woman I love and, bloody hell, you could see the curve of her naked arse peeping beneath the flowing fabric. Maybe I ogled her a bit. I mean, she did look hot. See through, cannons orange, underwear - bloody brilliant!

And then she slammed the bathroom door in my face! After a few moments of her grumbling to herself, I thought I heard something hit the bathroom door, along with her muttering something about burning the stupid bloody thing and how she didn't know what she was thinking. Seconds later she opened the door again and stepped out wearing her bathrobe, tightening the belt with a furious look on her face.

"Erm...sorry?" I muttered, though I wasn't sure what I was sorry for. Seems I couldn't do anything right at the moment. Whatever problems she thought we had, I was obviously to blame for them all.

"Forget it, it was a stupid idea," she muttered and sat at the dressing table, picking up her brush to work on her hair.

"What was a stupid idea?" I asked, not following her as I continued to undress. "Wait, was that underwear new?" I wondered, thinking I'd never seen it before. Surely I'd remember something like that?

She sighed as she swivelled on the little stool to face me. Only then did I notice she was blushing. "Yes, it was new. It was...something someone suggested to me."

"To buy impracticable underwear in bright orange?" I asked. Why would Hermione listen to anyone who told her that? She might not wear granny knickers or anything, but I knew she liked comfort. And as sexy as that little outfit was, it didn't look very comfortable.

"No," she groaned, sounding exasperated with me as she turned back to face the mirror. "To buy something sexy to try and...entice you." She rolled her eyes at herself and blushed further, avoiding my eyes. "It was a stupid idea," she muttered.

"Wait a minute," I caught on, standing in our room, now in just my underpants, hoping my body wasn't going to betray me by catching up with the idea of what she was suggesting. "You went and bought that...that stuff to try to turn me on or something?" I was trying so hard not to laugh out loud. But the idea was rather insane!

She huffed and tossed her brush back down, giving up on her hair. "I told you it was a stupid idea."

"No, not stupid. Just...rather pointless," I shrugged. When had she ever needed underwear or props or anything extra to turn me on? She just had to look at me and smile a certain way. Bite on her bottom lip, get all frustrated with her hair. Flick her tongue out to wet her lips. Merlin – I'd even got turned on more than once when she was bent over peering into the fridge!

"Well, don't worry, I won't be doing it again. I just, I thought I'd give it a try. I'm willing to try anything to fix whatever is wrong between us. To get things back to how we were."

"And buying new undies is the answer?" I smirked.

"Well, at least I'm making an effort!" she wailed, slinging cushions from the bed. Why we had all these extra cushions on the bed that weren't meant for sleeping on was something that had always confused me. But, my barmy wife insisted on them.

"Yeah. To fix some imaginary problem you've invented in your head and decided to stress about. We're fine!"

"Really? You don't think we have any problems then? We barely communicate anymore Ron!"

"Then what are we doing right now?" I shouted back.

"Shouting at each other!" she glared at me, arms folded across her chest.

"I..." I closed my mouth, realising she was right. Sighing deeply I sat down on the bed. "Look, Hermione, I love you. You love me. We're together, we're fine."

"It's not the same though, is it? Not like it used to be."

"We're not the same though, are we? We're not 20 years old anymore. Things naturally change as you get older," I shrugged. "So, unless you want to start attacking me like Ginny is doing to Harry, then..."

"Ginny's doing what?" she interrupted, looking puzzled.

I groaned, not really wanting to even think about this again. "Just something Harry was complaining about tonight, how Ginny is wearing him out. Apparently she's demanding sex all the time, jumping on him at every available opportunity. Bloody uncomfortable conversation that was!" I grimaced.

"Oh for heaven's sake Ron! We're all getting on for 40, we're all married with children now. Grow up and accept your sister has a sex life with Harry!" She tutted at me.

"Yeah, so everyone keeps informing me. Still doesn't mean I want bloody details about it!"

"That's not what Ginny told me though," Hermione paused and sat down on the bed. "She told me that the pair of them were like newly-weds again. Went on about how they were enjoying the benefits of having some privacy again and how much fun they were having."

"Well, perhaps Ginny's enjoying herself, but don't think Harry is. He just complained about having a sore back and being tired all the time. So, see, all marriages have their little problems and stuff – even the Perfect Potters get it wrong sometimes!"

"Ron, I don't think you understand what I'm saying," she turned to face me. "This isn't a silly problem about one of us having a higher sex drive than the other. I'm really worried about us. You're not the same right now, _we're_ not the same as we used to be and..."

Bloody hell – she was going on again! "It's not a counsellor you want," I interrupted her, "it's a bloody time turner! Then you can go back to when you imagine everything was perfect, when we were 21 with no responsibilities and shagged everywhere and anywhere!"

"Don't be ridiculous! This isn't just about sex. Besides, all the time turners were destroyed years ago – you know that – you were there. And they could only turn back a few hours, not years!" she rolled her eyes and pointed her chin at me – a smug move of hers when she knew she was right.

"Yeah, and I bet you're crushed about that," I snapped.

"For your information Ronald Weasley!" Damn – giving me my full name! She was really pissed off now. "All I actually want is a husband who is wiling to prove to me that he still loves me and wants to be married to me! That is all I'm asking for."

"Yeah? Well...well..." I tried to come up with something to sling back, but the truth was, her words hurt. Of course I loved her and wanted to be married to her, what the hell was she thinking? All I'd ever really wanted was to share my life with her and grow old together, why would I ruin all that now, after it had been threatened so often? And, Merlin did she really think she was the only one who missed sex? I'd jump at the chance to spend a day, naked, in bed with her. But both of us were working so much, that usually all I wanted when I got home was my dinner and a nap. Besides, just lately she was coming home so late that I was too knackered by then to do anything, let alone have sex. Was this really all my fault? Or was she the one avoiding me?

"Yes?" she dared me, raising one perfectly shaped eyebrow.

"You know what? Maybe it's you who doesn't want to be with me anymore! I'm not the one always working long hours and never coming home. You're the one always too busy to spend time with me, so that I'm stuck here by myself night after night. So don't try and tell me that I don't want to be with you when maybe it's your fault I never get to see you!"

She starred at me in silence, hurt evident in her eyes as well as the threat of tears. I almost regretted lashing back at her, wanting to hurt her as she'd hurt me with words. We could be cruel when we got like this, I knew well from past experience and I hated resorting to it. I loved her, I truly did – so why could we not speak rationally to one another?

"For your information, I have been home most of the afternoon when we could have spent some time together. Yet you decided going to drown your sorrows in a bottle and whining to your friends was more productive. So don't turn this on me!" She stuck her chin in the air again, her arms clasped across her chest in what I recognised as one of her defence mechanisms.

"Oh, so now I'm not allowed to go out even one night a week or talk to friends?" I threw my hands in the air. "I'm supposed to just sit home and wait for you to grace me with your presence? Is that it?"

"That's not what I said at all!" She sniffed and I knew those tears were imminent.

"Sounded like it to me!" I shot back, being unable to back down. _Stupid, stupid Ron! Shut your big mouth and go hug your wife and tell her you're sorry. Why was I always such a prat? Probably because she'd made me_ _so_ _flippin' mad, as usual!_

"Fine!" she spat. "If you don't want to deal with this and pretend it's not happening, then perhaps you'd prefer not to deal with a wife at all!" And with that, she turned on her heal and marched from the room.

My heart fell to my toes. What did she mean? Where was she going? "Hermione! Wait!" I charged after her. "What are you..."

"Goodnight Ronald!" She hissed at me before slamming our daughter's bedroom door in my face. And then I heard the tears and felt like the biggest arsehole in the universe.

"Hermione?" I spoke softly, knocking on the door.

Silence.

"Come on, love..." I tried again, my forehead leaning against the door.

"Sod off Ron!" I heard her mutter, her voice muffled by what I presumed was a pillow.

I sighed deeply and went across the hall to our room, slamming the door in anger behind me. Well, I'd well and truly mucked that one up, hadn't I?

* * *

Arguments the night before always made for an awkward Sunday lunch at my parents and caused unnecessary concerned glances from my Mum. It had been a long and cold night as she'd slept in Rose's room, leaving me alone in ours. This morning, we'd barely spoken to one another. I had intended on making her breakfast, as way of an apology, or at the least to break the ice. But, I'd overslept and she had long since eaten breakfast by the time I got downstairs.

Even though I was sorry I had upset her and made her cry, sorry that we'd argued the worst we had in months, I was still a bit annoyed. Because I didn't think anything was wrong between us, until the argument last night that is. Was it possible she was making all her worries come true by causing stupid rows about these imaginary problems of hers? And why was it always me that felt bad and wanted to apologise for upsetting her, when she never did the same for me? Her words had hurt me last night, yet I was always the one at fault.

I still didn't understand what she was going on about - all marriages change over time, don't they? You grow up, priorities change and you settle into a comfortable routine. This was normal, right? And we certainly didn't need some nosey old git poking their nose into our business and asking personal questions. I'd do just about anything for Hermione, but sharing details of our private life with a stranger was not one of them!

Besides, what problems did we have if we both knew we still loved one another? I'd been in love with her for so long now and I couldn't imagine a day when that wasn't the case. Hermione was as beautiful to me as she'd been on our wedding day and I still fancied the pants right off of her. Together we had created two incredible children and we had a good life together – why the hell did she think I wanted to screw that up?

I honestly didn't understand where any of this was coming from. Probably some dumb article she read in Witch Weekly or one of those really stupid relationship quizzes that rate how well you're doing. My wife is competitive and ambitious, always has been, so maybe we hadn't quite come out at a perfect score and she'd panicked.

I sat at my parent's kitchen table – surrounded by my family. Sunday lunches were much quieter with most of the children away at Hogwarts now. I think between us, the Weasley's had managed to populate half of the school! Louis, Bill and Fleur's youngest who had just missed the cut off date for school this year, was sat, looking rather bored, between his parents. And Roxy – George and Angelina's belated surprise - was sat on her dad's lap. She had just turned seven, I think, and her parents adored her. Seeing them together made me miss my own kids all over again. I wished Rose and Hugo were still that age sometimes.

And Victoire was here, obviously. She'd finished her education at Hogwarts two years ago and was now training as a Healer. Currently, she was sat beside Teddy. The pair of them squashed up together at the end of the table, eyes only for one another as they giggled and talked in hushed whispers whilst holding hands under the table. I wondered vaguely if Hermione and I had ever been that disgusting? Still, I envied them the early, innocent stages of a new relationship – when everything was still exciting and yet terrifying all at the same time. Or maybe I didn't. I remember that had been a somewhat awkward time for me - constantly not wanting to put my foot in it and not wanting to be over eager, yet wanting to show her how much I loved her and trying to make up for lost time.

Opposite me, sat Harry and Ginny. My sister was beaming, ravenously eating her food and chattering away to anyone who would listen about the latest gossip running in her office and how the children were getting on. Harry on the other hand looked half asleep, pushing his food around his plate, his elbow on the table with his head resting in one hand, making his glasses sit wonky on his face as he tried to stifle his yawns. The only time he showed any stirrings of life was when Ginny whispered something in his ear with a little giggle and he turned and stared at her, wide eyed and obviously flushed. I grinned wryly to myself, wondering if his tired state was the result of our drinking session last night or whether my sister had been at him again. And then quickly shook my head when I realised it wasn't something I wanted to be thinking about – least of all when I was eating! Okay, I was a childish prat, but I would never, ever get used to my baby sister having a sex life with my best mate!

"Are you okay, Ginny dear?" mum spoke up.

"Fine Mum," she grinned.

"Really? You just...you seem very hungry. You're sure you're not..."

"What?" Harry yelped as he raised his head sharply, seemingly catching on to what Mum was getting at before I had.

Ginny giggled and rolled her eyes. "No Mum, I'm not pregnant. We're done with all that, thank you. I've just...been exercising a lot more recently," she winked at Harry, who rolled his eyes, but looked rather relieved.

The rest of the family laughed, all apart from mum. I don't think she'd ever give up hoping for more grandchildren, seemingly not satisfied with the 12 she already had, 13 if you included Ted, and mum usually did.

Next to Harry was Bill and Fleur. Bill was glaring at Teddy, just waiting for him to do something wrong, to hurt his little girl or overstep boundaries. I understood completely - the day my own daughter became interested in boys would be a sad day indeed – no boy would ever be worthy of my sweet Rose. Still, I pitied Teddy a bit - it reminded me of early, uncomfortable dinners with Hermione's parents and I remembered how stressful that could be. Fleur was nudging Bill every few minutes and whispering rapidly to him, telling him to leave them alone since they were doing nothing wrong. He'd stop glaring for a moment to offer his wife a smile, squeeze her hand and eat some food. Then a giggle from his daughter would catch his attention again and he'd be back to glaring. Fleur sighed and shook her head, her still gleaming silver hair fanning out behind her. I was pleased to say that she had remotely no affect on me these days.

At the head of the table sat my parents, side by side as always. I don't suppose I ever thought of them as being romantic or having a love life. I mean as a kid, especially for boys, we just didn't think of our parents that way – it was mortifying and totally revolting to imagine. But, even now, after over 60 years of marriage, I noted the tiny little gestures, the subtle hints that made it obvious they were still in love. The way they sat with their hands on top of one another's on the table. The looks they shared and how, before he could even ask for another cup of tea or more gravy, Mum was jumping up to get it for him. They'd carry on a conversation with someone else in the room and yet still be totally in tune with one another other. I realised what they had was special and something I envied. I hoped we'd make it as far as they had, and even longer. I didn't ever want to be without my Hermione.

Charlie wasn't home this weekend – he tried to get home about once a month these days to see the family and spend time with Mum and Dad, something he had done since the end of the war. Charlie was the only Weasley who hadn't settled down and married, despite all Mum's nagging. I mean, I knew from conversations we had that he dated and had had a few relationships, but he claimed he just hadn't found the one worth marrying and that we should all think ourselves lucky that we had. He insisted that his work kept him busy and that was more than enough for him, so maybe he just wasn't the marrying sort. He really did seem happy and content with his lot anyway.

Next to Mum and Dad was Percy and Audrey. Percy was conducting a loud, gesture filled conversation with Dad, which included him waving his fork in the air, about current affairs within the Ministry. Whilst Audrey sat quietly beside him, eating her dinner and gently offering mum any help. She was the sister-in-law I knew least, so maybe that was why I'd never really understood their relationship. Percy, whilst not as pompous as he'd been in the past, was still very serious, opinionated and work focused, excelling in (and loving) his job working closely with the Minister. Whilst Audrey was rather quiet and had remained working in her parents Muggle book store in the centre of London. She was also a Muggle-born and I knew my own wife was a frequent visitor to her shop. But, even though they sometimes came across as a mismatched pair, I still I noted the way he asked her opinion on things and tried to include her in the conversation – something the old Percy would never have done. It was a sign he cared about her.

Sitting beside myself was George and Angelina with little Roxy. I don't know what he kept whispering to his daughter, but it was making her giggle and they both had that look of mischief in their eye – both of their children had some of Fred's spirit in them. I'm pretty sure he was tickling or poking Angelina too, because she kept squirming way from him, bumping into me and telling him, rather playfully, to stop it. They'd always had that kind of relationship, neither one of them taking anything too seriously. Which is probably what had resulted in Freddie's surprise arrival long before they were married. Thinking on it, both of their kids had been a surprise, but neither one they regretted. No one had expected them to make it, and yet here they both were, 21 years later, together and perfectly content to live life the way they chose and enjoy it to the full.

And then there was myself and Hermione. Glancing around the table again, I compared ourselves to the other couples – besides Harry falling asleep and Bill giving Victoire's boyfriend more attention than his wife, they all looked happy and relaxed with one another, chattering away in couples and to other family members. Whilst Hermione and I had our backs to one another, sometimes joining in others conversations, but mostly sitting silently. Our chairs were as far apart as they could be with us all crowded around the table, and I certainly didn't note any of the subtle little gestures or looks or anything remotely loving between us that I noticed with the other couples – we were blatantly ignoring one another. Was this why Mum kept shooting us worried glances? Why she kept asking Hermione if everything was all right?

And just like that, my heart plummeted and I lost my appetite. Because, what if Hermione was right? What if we really did have issues and I was too stupid to see them? What if our marriage was in trouble? Just because I was sure everything was fine between us and I was happy enough with our lot, didn't necessarily mean that Hermione was. What if she was trying to tell me that she was unhappy in our marriage? I hated to think of her feeling like that.

I thought on all the things she'd said, about how we didn't talk anymore. She was right – unless we were in the middle of an argument or asking mundane things like 'pass the milk' or 'was there any post', we didn't really talk – not like we once did. And when had I last taken her out for dinner or done anything special for her? What had I done for her birthday? I could barely remember. As for the lack of sex she'd pointed out...well I missed that too, taking care of things in the shower wasn't the same – but it had become routine of late. Damn it!

I knew I'd been a bit of a miserable git since the kids had gone back to school because I missed them and because I felt rather alone. But, what if Hermione was feeling that way too and I had been so wrapped up in my own stupid feelings that I hadn't considered hers?

Merlin! Was I taking her and our marriage for granted? Was I hurting her? The thought of her leaving me broke my heart. She was my rock, the one person who kept me sane and made me happy. But was I making her happy?

Right then and there, I came to a realisation as I saw things from her point of view – I had been behaving like a miserable old man towards the woman I claimed to love and didn't want to live without. As from now, I vowed to myself, I was going to make more of an effort. I was still rather useless at expressing my emotions or at least talking about feelings, but I thought I did a pretty good job at showing someone how I felt, which was why I was going to prove to that incredible, smart, beautiful, talented witch that I loved her and wanted to spend the rest of my life with her.

With that in mind, I leant over and kissed my wife's cheek without another thought. She turned to look at me, her forehead furrowed in bafflement at my sudden act, then gave a slight roll of her eyes and shook her head slightly before turning back to her conversation with Audrey. Before she moved though, I caught the subtle twitch of her lips into a soft smile. And then Mum beaming over at me, nodding thoughtfully.

Yes, I was going to show her that I was willing to do whatever it took to get the pair of us back to wherever she thought we should be. Prove to her just how much I really did love her and wanted to be with her, for always.

Just so long as it didn't include a marriage counsellor, that is.

* * *

 _Reviews might make me post faster...and there's only 2 chapters left now (and the next is a big one!)_


	6. Chapter 6

_Thank you for all the amazing reviews, faves and follows – you have no idea how much your support means to me and how those reviews make me smile._

 _Warning for adult themes towards the end of this chapter and adult language (even if I have edited more detailed bits out (kept the original though :p)_

 _Usual disclaimers apply._

 _On with the chapter...it's a long one – be warned (I couldn't find a good place to split it!)_

* * *

Chapter Six

Ron slept in on the Monday morning. He was taking the day off, since he'd had to go into work on the Saturday, which was something he sometimes did if he'd had to work unexpectedly at the weekend. I can't say I blamed him, though I was sometimes envious of his ease to decide his own hours. Last night, after we got home from his parents, he'd been behaving rather...odd. He'd been more attentive than he had been of late and even apologised to me, unprompted, for the argument the night before. He'd even cuddled up to me in bed, which I had allowed simply because I missed the feeling of a warm body pressed against my back and his nose nuzzling against my neck.

Right now I was sat alone, eating my breakfast in the kitchen when Chicken turned up with the post, which included a letter from Rose. I knew that would make Ron happy to get a letter from one of the children, which I was still reading when he finally wandered in, all sleep dishevelled, still in his pajamas and looking for something to eat. I smiled up at him briefly, I always thought he looked cute half asleep and all crumpled, and turned back to the letter before he caught me gazing at him.

 _'Dear Mum and Dad,_

 _Professor McGonagall told us today that team members parents are being invited to the Quidditch matches from now on. Please, please, please DO NOT embarrass me in front of my friends. Okay Dad? No kissing and hugging us (or each other!) or being too excitable – please! Other than that, it will be nice to see you. Can't wait for you to see us play, we've been out practising hard at least twice a week. Olivia Wood (wasn't her Dad Uncle Harry's team captain at school?) is a bit of a slave driver though – even James was getting annoyed with her last weekend when she made us get up at the crack of dawn and practice in the pouring rain!_

 _Hugo is doing okay, don't think he's written to you recently, has he? I think he's been struggling with some Potions homework – I've seen him hunched over the same essay the past few nights anyway. I offered him some help with it, but he got all huffy about it – so like Dad! Kidding Dad – love you really!_

 _Things are going well for me, busy with practice and homework obviously, but I have listened to your advice Mum, and made sure to have some free time as well. My friends and I like to go sit out by the lake when the weather is nice and talk, play some Gobstones or look through magazines, but mostly we just have a laugh together._

 _Oh, Hagrid asked me to send his best. Perhaps you could visit him when you're up for the match? I think he'd like that. He was rather upset over one of his Thestral's being ill last time I saw him. I think a visit would be nice._

 _I must go, got some homework to finish. And don't worry, I'll keep my eye on Hugo and remind him to write. Hope you're both okay – I miss you._

 _See you soon._

 _Lots of Love,_

 _Rose xx_

 _P.S. Remember – DO NOT embarrass me._

I smiled as I set the letter down, proud and amused by our daughter, but a little worried about our son. I knew how easily it was to get overwhelmed by school work in your first year and if he wasn't letting his sister help him, then I hoped he'd let a friend or a cousin have a look.

Ron sat down opposite me, dumping a bowl on the table and making me jump. "Sorry," he mumbled and shoved a spoonful of cereal into his mouth. "What's that?" he waved his spoon towards the parchment I was still glancing at beside my own plate.

"A letter from our daughter," I passed it over.

"Oh, brilliant!" he muttered, milk dribbling down his chin as he spoke through his mouth full and eagerly took it from me. He held it in front of his face, reading and eating at the same time, smiling at some parts and then grunting at others.

I waited until he'd finished. "I hope Hugo is okay," I said when he finally put the letter down. He always had been a much slower reader than I was.

"What's she mean by making a point of telling me not to embarrass her?" he pointed to the letter, looking rather affronted.

"Ron, she's almost 14 now. Imagine if your mum or dad had come to watch a match and had given you a big hug and kiss in front of all your friends afterwards or something?" I eyed him.

"Eurgh!" he grimaced. "Yeah, right, I get that. But still, why make it sound as though I'd be the only one to embarrass her? Not like you wouldn't want to give her a hug her too."

"Well, of course. But, you are very affectionate with our children, Ron. And, well, perhaps your jokes and tricks that you enjoy, are just a bit too...silly for a 14 year old now," I tried to gently suggest.

"Huh!" He looked hurt again. "They're not silly," he huffed. "And why did she say Hugo got all huffy just like dad? I don't get all huffy," he pouted.

"Oh no, of course not." I tried not to laugh at the look on his face right now – a perfect imitation of our son in a bad mood. "Do you think Hugo is all right though? I don't like to think of him struggling. Maybe I should write to him and remind him there is no shame in asking for help. Or write to Neville and ask him to check on him?" I mused.

"Yeah, I'm sure that will go down well!" he rolled his eyes. "Having another professor check up on his homework. He's fine, love. He's only been there seven weeks, he'll figure it out. I had to."

"Oh, you did, did you? All by yourself?" I eyed him, questioningly.

"Well, okay, I did get some help from you. But..."

"Just some help? Really? Because if I hadn't helped either you or Harry, I'm pretty sure you'd both still be there trying to pass your O.W.L's!" I teased him.

"Whatever," he muttered, refolding the letter and slotting it back into the envelope as I got up to put my pots in the sink and checking I was on time for work. "Are you going to be in your office all week?" he asked me then, apropos to nothing.

"Erm..." I tried to think as I nipped into the study to grab my satchel and a file I'd been working on. "I think so. I have no court dates planned this week. Why?" I wondered.

He shrugged. "Just wondered," he replied evasively.

"Okay, well I'd better go. What are you going to do with yourself all day?" I wondered, whilst opening my satchel to put the file in and check I had everything else I needed.

He looked up at me and grinned. "Nothing," he shrugged.

"Sounds lovely," I sighed, closing my bag with a snap. "I'll see you tonight," I quickly bent to kiss his cheek and he surprised me by turning his head and kissing my lips soundly.

"See you later," he replied, laughing at the stunned look on my face as I made my way to the floo.

Upon arrival in my office, I went over this morning again and realised that was the longest and most amiable conversation we'd had in weeks. Not to mention that little kiss. It was almost reminiscent of the way we used to be. Almost. Had he actually finally listened to me?

One could hope I suppose.

* * *

The next day, I was hard at work in my office, trying to concentrate on a new case. It was rather complicated and confusing – I knew someone wasn't telling the truth, but couldn't decide who. The story just didn't add up.

But, it was proving even more difficult because I couldn't keep my mind off Ron. After a promising morning yesterday, last night he'd returned to being quiet and vague about things. I asked him how his day was and he just replied with 'fine'. Asked him what he'd been up to, he looked flustered before answering 'nothing'. And then he'd disappeared upstairs for a bit. I couldn't figure him out at all and it was driving me insane.

I shook my head again, trying to forget about my husband right now, and focus on these case notes before me, trying to decide if I had a viable case at all – not easy when you weren't sure if your client was actually innocent or not.

Suddenly, my office door crashed open and I jumped, almost throwing my teacup I'd been holding across the office in surprise. I looked up to find Harry standing in the doorway, looking rather flustered. "Hermione!" he gasped. "Quick...it's...it's Ron. He needs you!" he told me, beckoning me out of my office.

"What happened?" I was out of my seat in an instant and grabbed my wand.

"I erm..." he paused, "I think something happened at the shop. He just, he needs you. Come on, we have to go!" he told me urgently.

"Okay. I'm coming." I followed him through the department, heading back towards the Aurors domain and over to the room used as their emergency apparition point. "Do you know what happened?" I asked, as we hurried along.

"Erm, no, not really. Just got a message that he needs you,"he replied, rather evasively.

"Why did they contact you and not me?" I asked, puzzled. This wasn't make any sense.

"Erm, er..." Harry stalled and then fiddled with his glasses, looking more than a little suspicious. "How am I supposed to know!" he finally answered.

"Harry..." I began.

"Are you going to stand there arguing with me, or are you going to find your husband who needs you?" he demanded.

"Fine, I'm going," I protested as he shoved me into the room they used for Apparation, since it wasn't exactly a good idea to have people popping in and out all over the Ministry. "Wait, where am I going?" I asked, not knowing if he was in hospital or at home or somewhere else.

"Oh, the shop. Said he's in the store room," he muttered, avoiding my gaze again.

I gave him one last sceptical look as he closed the door and then I pictured the store room at the Wheezes shop in my mind and spun, wondering what the hell was really going on. Something didn't feel right.

Before I'd even got my bearings after Apparating into the shop, someone grabbed me from behind and Disapparated with me again. I screamed, not knowing what was happening or who had hold of me. I had this sudden terrifying notion that Harry might not have really been Harry and I was being kidnapped – again. Had this all been a set up I had walked into simply because I cared about my husband too much?

Finally, we stopped spinning and landed on solid ground. I whirled around to slap my abductor, pointing my wand at them before I realised who it was. "Ron?" I gasped in disbelief. "What the hell is going on? Who are you?" I demanded, not lowering my wand, not trusting it was really him.

"Hey, it's just me - your husband." He took a step towards me, hands held palm up towards me

"Don't you dare come a step closer," I thrust my wand up, pointing right at his crotch. "I will hex you."

"Bloody hell Hermione," he muttered. "It's Ron, the bloke you married?" he cocked one eyebrow.

"Prove it!" I demanded.

"How do you expect me to...all right, all right." he stammered when he noted me jerk the wand. "Erm...that, that stain on your robes," he pointed to a dark spot on my chest. "The jam fell off your toast at breakfast this morning – you tried to get it off using tergeo, but it just finished up rather smudged and you didn't have time to change."

"Hmm…that could just be a good guess," I glanced at the stain myself – I mean it was obvious. "Try again!" I flicked my wand up and down threateningly.

"Okay, okay!" he muttered and rubbed the back of his neck – a familiar Ron gesture, but then anyone could have been watching him and noted that he did that – it was a frequent habit of his after all. His eyes lit up then as something popped into his head that he thought for sure would have me convinced. "Okay, fine..." he began, relaxing his stance a little, "on your left hip, you have two little moles, about an inch apart, that you hate. Whilst I secretly love them," he smiled.

"You do?" I asked, melting slightly and lowering my wand.

He shrugged. "Well, of course. They're part of you," he smiled at me.

I glanced around myself then, confused by my surroundings. "Okay, so maybe you are really my husband. But what the hell is going on and where in Merlin's name are we?" I asked.

"We, erm, we're in France. I, I wanted to surprise you," he added, sheepishly.

"By kidnapping me and scaring me half to death?" I shrieked at him.

"No, at least that wasn't my intention. I just...look, let's go sit down," he took my hand and pulled me from the entrance hall of the house we were standing in, towards a lounge. He took off his cloak, laying it over the back of the sofa, before sitting down and kicking off his shoes, making himself at home. Whilst I gingerly sat down beside him, still completely puzzled as to what exactly was going on.

"Where in France are we exactly? And might I ask why?" I turned to face him.

Ron inhaled deeply and let it out slowly before he began. "Don't you recognise it?" he gave a little smile and raised an eyebrow, curiously.

I glanced around the vaguely familiar room, sensing that I had been there before, but being unable to place it. I tried to recall all the times I'd ever been to France. "Oh!" I gasped as it came to me. "This is Fleur's parents' summer home," I remembered.

"Uh huh," he nodded, "where we spent our honeymoon." He had a rather dreamy smile on his face now

"But...why?" I was still utterly confused as to what the hell was going on, but now understood that Harry must have been in on it, even if he hadn't been very convincing.

"I just," Ron took a deep breath, "I thought it would be romantic to come back here and...spend some time with you." The tips of his ears were a little pinker than usual as he took my hands in his much larger ones and ran his thumbs across my knuckles.

"Spend time with me?" I asked dumbly, still not following him.

"Yes!" he nodded, looked down at our joined hands and gently twisted the wedding band on my finger. "See, I've been thinking about all you've been saying the last few days, and, well I don't want to lose you Hermione. I really do love you and I realise I've been a bit of a git and..."

"You planned this? To bring me here?" I looked around, slowly remembering the place. Obviously the décor had changed somewhat in the last few years, but certain features were still the same.

He nodded. "I asked Fleur if we could borrow the house again. Well, I begged her really I suppose. Asked if we could have it for a few days, told her it was really import..."

"A few days?" I caught what he'd said and pulled my hands from his, already wringing them with worry. "Ron, I can't be here for a few days! I have work and..."

"All cleared with your boss, don't worry. Used up some days from your holiday allowance."

"Ron, that's sweet," I patted his knee. "But, you know I like to save that time so I can take time off during the school holidays and spend time with the children."

"Don't you think that maybe you and I deserve, no _need_ , to spend a few uninterrupted days together?" he asked.

"Well, yes. That would be nice. But..."

"No more buts," he held a hand up to quieten me. "It's all been cleared, you've still got plenty of days left and it's all settled now," he grinned, looking pretty smug with himself. I didn't know whether to kiss him or slap him right now.

"I haven't packed anything though. I didn't even bring my bag," I realised, glancing down for it. In my panicked haste all I'd grabbed from my office was my wand.

"Got everything we need, right here," he pulled my beaded bag from beneath the cloak he'd dumped on the back of the sofa, the very same bag I had cast the undetectable extension charm on 20 odd years ago, looking a little worse for wear right now, but it still worked.

"And you couldn't have charmed another bag?" I asked, amused.

He shrugged. "Why bother when this one still has a perfect charm on it?" he asked. "So, I have changes of clothes for us both, toothbrushes, deodorant, your shampoo and everything. Nightwear, underwear. Even bought that sexy little number you were wearing the other night," he winked, pulling the bag open slightly and peering inside for it.

"You brought that?" I asked, covering my face in my hands, horrified and rather embarrassed – that hadn't been one of my best moments. "I threw it out!"

"And I rescued it," he nodded his head once. "Honestly, had you not got into a strop with me the other night and if I hadn't been a bit drunk, things might have happened before we started fighting. Because you looked bloody hot in it!"

"Now you tell me," I muttered. "Hold on," I suddenly thought of something else. "Isn't Rosie's match this weekend? I don't want to miss it. I've been looking forward to seeing the children."

"And why would you miss it?" he tilted his head, regarding me quizzically. "We can Disapparate from here just as well as we can from home, love. We can leave here Saturday and then go home after the match."

"Oh. Yes, of course," I nodded, feeling silly for not considering that.

He smirked. "So, are you done with finding excuses to get out of this now?"

"Ron,"I spoke gently, rubbing his knee. "I wasn't. I didn't..."

He laughed, cutting me off from trying to explain myself. "I was teasing. I know you and I know you just want to settle all the practicalities, but, honestly – I got it all covered. So, what do you think?" he asked, holding his hands out, regarding his sneaky secret and all his well thought out plans, as though he expected praise.

I thought about his motives for a moment - getting me alone amidst all this secrecy, then recalling the fact he'd packed my sexy underwear. "If this is just some scheme for you to get some action in bed, then..."

"No!" he interrupted me. "I mean, yeah, I'd like for there to be _some_ bedroom action at some point, because...well it _has_ been awhile. But, that's not the only thing that inspired me do this. Honestly, I've just been listening to everything you've been saying of late - about our marriage being in a rut and you thinking I don't love you anymore or want you and I want to prove to you that I do. So, so much. I wanted to make an effort, some grand gesture to show you how much you still mean to me, always will." He edged closer towards me and took hold of my hands again.

"Really?" I asked, feeling my eyes blur with tears as he totally melted me.

"Of course," he sighed and leant forward to brush his lips gently against mine. "I love you Hermione Granger and it kind of hurts that you'd ever think that I don't. But, I know I've not been myself for a bit and I'm sorry if I took you for granted or I drifted away from you or whatever. I just," he sighed, "I don't know how to explain it."

"Just tell me how you feel Ron, whatever thoughts you've been having, whether you think it makes sense or not, just tell me," I squeezed his hand in mine. "I'll understand, really," I promised him.

He inhaled deeply and let it out slowly before he opened his mouth again. "I feel...lost. Like I don't know what I'm doing anymore. For years I've been the one working less hours to be there for the kids after school and make dinner, clean the house and...I guess I feel sort of lost at home without them now. I miss Rose and Hugo. And...I miss you. You're always working so much and I seem to be home alone a lot now and...it might sound a bit, pathetic, but...I'm lonely."

"Oh Ron, I'm sorry," I pulled him into my arms, hugging him close as I realised for the first time that I was as much to blame for any problems I thought we had. I hadn't realised he felt that way and I hated that he felt lonely in our marriage and perhaps a little neglected.

"Maybe you haven't noticed," he spoke softly against my neck, "but since we put Hugo on the train with Rosie last month, you have been working longer and longer hours. I know your career is important and means a lot to you, I really do understand that and, I hate to sound like…."

I pulled back, so I could see his eyes and shook my head."Nothing means as much to me as you and the children," I assured him. "You three are the most important parts of my life and I'm sorry if it seems I've forgotten that for awhile."

"Maybe I did a bit too," he suggested with a smile as he tenderly brushed my hair from my face. "Why did it take us weeks of fighting and getting upset to tell one another all this?" He gave a small laugh.

"Because we're idiots and it's what we do," I snorted. "I mean, telling each other how we feel has never exactly been our shining moment, has it?"

"You'd think after more than 20 years, we might have got a bit better at it," he joked. "I do love you Hermione. I love being married to you and I don't want anything to ever change that."

"I know, darling. And I love you too. I could never imagine my life without you."

We shared a smile as our eyes held one another's gaze and then he reached for me, unaware until then that our bodies had subconsciously moved closer together, and took my face between his hands. He kissed me softly, his lips tender and warm on mine as I responded to his touch. As my arms wound around his neck, tugging him even closer, he deepened the kiss, tongues tentatively making a request and I sighed against him. I'd missed this - it had been too long without sharing these kisses, holding one another like this and I resolved to never let it go so long again.

Slowly, we pulled apart, he kissed my lips one last time before giving me a little smirk and I knew he felt exactly the same way about it. Why had we wasted so much time?

Giving him a shy little smile, I settled beside him, closing any gap between us. "I suppose," I sighed, "now that the children are away for most of the year, things are just..."

"Different," he finished for me, sliding his arm around my shoulders and holding me close.

"Yes," I nodded. "Our lives have changed once again and I guess it's just going to take some time to adjust to this new stage of our lives together. And I'm sorry it took us arguing and my getting distressed about our marriage for us to even realise that."

"I'm kind of glad that you got upset about it," he surprised me as I gave him a rather wounded look, wondering where he was going with this. "I mean, not glad that you got upset," he quickly explained himself before I took offence. "Just, the fact you got so worried and stuff tells me that our marriage really does matter to you."

"Well, of course it does," I looked at him dumbfounded. "The single best decision I ever made was agreeing to marry you." I kissed his cheek and lay my head on his shoulder. "And, I'm starting to think that we never really had an actual problem so to speak, just a lack of communication."

"As usual!" he rolled his eyes. "I'm sorry I got grumpy and quiet rather than just telling you how I felt. I guess, I didn't know how to express what I was thinking or really understand what we were doing to each other."

"Like I did any better!" I shook my head at myself, knowing we'd both been so foolish. "But, I'm glad it's all out there now, because I know we can work it out. I realise how very lucky I am to have you and your love. You are a good husband and I think we have a pretty strong, well rounded marriage. I still believe the two of us make sense together," I smiled at him.

"I believe that too. You...you make me a better man. I know this is a really dumb thing to say, but, I really do think you complete me."

"I prefer to think we complement each other," I changed his wording slightly.

He smirked and shook his head wryly. "Still my adorable walking dictionary, needing to correct me," he laughed lightly.

"Sorry," I laughed realising what I'd done.

"Nah, it's part of who you are. Just one of the mad things I love about you," he admitted.

I poked my tongue out at him playfully, he returned the gesture before we giggled at one another. He tugged me into his embrace then, a hand gently clasping my shoulder as I lay my head on his chest, resting my hand on his hip. For awhile, we just sat quietly together, content to be in one another's arms again, to feel relaxed with one another.

"Maybe," Ron suddenly spoke and I opened my eyes. I didn't realise I had been dozing, so comfortable in his arms. He chuckled once and stroked my shoulder, seemingly noticing he had startled me. "Sorry, I was just thinking that maybe we're going about this all wrong. Instead of being upset that the house is too quiet and we're alone now, maybe we should be making the most of it?" he suggested.

I twisted my head to peer up at him, catching the flash of an eyebrow. "What?" I asked, wondering exactly what his intentions were, though I could probably guess. I mean, I enjoyed sex and Ron had always been a satisfying and generous lover, and I knew we'd had rather a dry spell, but, I wasn't sure going at it again like we were still 20 years olds was the answer either.

He laughed at the expression on my face. "Don't worry, I'm not going to start acting like my nut of a sister, but," he sighed as he tried to choose his words. "For the last 14 years or so, we've been busy as parents and focused on raising the kids. So, maybe now that we have more time for ourselves, we can focus on us a bit more? Stop all the sniping and stressing about imaginary problems and just make a bit of time for each other."

"You're right," I nodded. "Of course you're right."

"Don't sound too surprised!" he grunted.

"Oh, Ron...you know I didn't mean it like that. You should know by now that I think you're wonderful and smart and intuitive and..."

"Yeah, you have to say that because you're married to me and therefore stuck with me," he nudged me with his shoulder.

"No," I lifted my head from his shoulder and turned to face him, "I have to say that because I'm just stating facts...and because I love you." I leant forward to tenderly kiss his lips. "So, do you have any suggestions how exactly we go about making time for each other? Though, this trip is certainly a damn good start," I kissed him again, sliding my arms around his waist.

"Well, you were the one who suggested we get away for a couple of days." He put his chin on the top of my head as I burrowed my face into his neck, inhaling in his scent. Merlin I'd missed that, how did he still smell the same after all these years? All musk and chocolate and warmth and...Ron.

"Ron," I let my lips places kisses on his jaw, enjoying the delicious scratch of his stubble, and down his throat as I chuckled against his skin before rising my head, "I only suggested staying overnight in Hogsmeade, which is hardly as romantic as this. You came up with this one all by yourself." I felt proud of him and even more lucky to realise he was mine, for always.

He shrugged one shoulder and rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed by my praise. "Just thought it would be nice," he muttered.

"This is more than nice," I sighed and fell against his chest as his long arms enveloped me. "It's exactly what the pair of us needed to force us to really talk. But, I don't want us to have a few wonderful days here, only for things to go back to how they were once we get home."

"I know," he nodded in agreement. "Something needs to change. We really do need to make time for each other a priority. I mean, I know our jobs are important, but..."

"Not as important as each other and our family," I finished for him.

"No," he agreed. "So...how about, say at least once a week, we make plans together?" He was making this up as he went along I realised, but so far it was all sounding perfect and so easy that I was surprised I hadn't thought of it myself before. "Like, one night we both make the effort to get home from work early and be together?" He raised an eyebrow questioningly when I lifted my face, my chin on his chest, to look at him.

"Like a date night?" I smiled.

He shrugged a shoulder. "Something like that, yeah. We can do that one night a week and maybe at the weekend too – spend more time together rather than taking care of household chores that can wait."

I nodded, eagerly. "That sounds like a good start. We can go out to dinner together, take a trip to the beach or to the cinema or…"

"Shut down the floo, put up some wards and just stay in to snuggle, make love," he whispered softly against my ear and I shivered.

"Yes," I agreed breathlessly – just the smell of him and his warm body was already stirring longings within me. "We just need to remember to be a couple again, spend some quality time together. And I don't just mean sexually!" I poked his ribs when I caught the huge smirk on his face.

He laughed, loudly, and it was so good to hear him really laugh again as I smiled at him before he claimed my lips in a gentle kiss. "Though, speaking of sex," he kissed my jaw as his lips left mine, "it has been awhile and," he nipped at my earlobe, making me hiss, "well, I'm sort of in the mood for making up for lost time," he winked, before claiming my lips again in a rather searing kiss.

I smiled at him, feeling ridiculously shy after all these years together. "I think that might be nice. I don't think I told you before, but I've missed you too." I brushed his fringe out of his eyes and kissed the tip of his nose.

"Then what are we waiting for?" He stood and held his hand out to me. "I mean, we have that nice little outfit of yours to have fun with too," he chuckled, grabbing the bag from where he'd left it on the table and eagerly pulled me upstairs.

"Don't you dare!" I shrieked with laughter whilst chasing after him.

Ron opened the second door along the landing, walking into the room behind me with his hands on my hips. "Remember this room?" he asked.

"Yes," I breathed, feeling his chin on my shoulder as his arms encircled my waist. We'd spent many happy, fulfilling nights in this room on our honeymoon. Not exactly getting much sleep, but certainly attempting to get enough of one another and raising the rooms temperature.

Nothing much seemed to have changed in here, the ornate four poster bed still looked the same - almost drowning in soft, billowy white drapes and bedding. The door to the balcony was as I remembered it, though currently covered in heavy curtains blocking out the late afternoon sun. Even the wallpaper and carpet looked the same. There was however, a few definite differences and it was obvious that Ron had been here, preparing for this before kidnapping me.

Red flower petals had been scattered across the bed. Candles had been placed upon every available flat surface in the room, casting our surroundings in an ethereal glow. I vaguely wondered whether it was safe to have lit them all and then left them unattended, but realised he must have used one of his new Wheezes product – the Everlasting Flame Candles that came in a variety of scents. Apparently my obsession with Muggle scented candles and the expense he said I wasted on them when they only lasted mere hours, had inspired him to invent them. Beside the bed there even sat a bottle of champagne, damp with condensation from the charm that was probably on it to keep it cold, along with two crystal flutes waiting on the table beside it.

"You did all this?" I asked, turning in his arms.

He nodded, before tossing the little bag onto the dressing table and gave me a smile. "Like I said, I wanted it to be a surprise. This is how I spent my day off yesterday. Well, after I'd spent an hour or so begging Fleur to let me borrow the house again. By the way, we're probably going to be seeing a lot more of our nephew, Louis, over the next few weeks, when I pay her back with babysitting." He rolled his eyes. "Once I secured use of the house and my plan began falling into place, I spent awhile getting everything together and even more time explaining to George how I was going to be away for a few days – he wasn't very happy by the way, but screw him. Also wasn't easy sneaking unseen into your department to talk to someone about getting you some time off," he grumbled. "Then you actually came home earlier last night before I had finished, which is why I was missing most of last night," he confessed and leant in to kiss my lips softly. "I popped over this morning for the last few finishing touches."

"I love you," I told him, holding him tight.

"That's good," he grinned widely, "you know, since I feel the same way about you." He pecked my lips before engaging me in a deep, passionate kiss, his tongue intertwining with mine.

His hands slid up my body, towards my neck where he unfastened and freed me of the Ministry robes I was still wearing. They pooled at my feet, quickly followed by my sensible black pencil skirt. He freed my hair from the tight bun I wore it in for work, letting it fall in a soft cloud of curls around my shoulders as he dragged the blouse over my head and soon he had me stood before him in my simple white, cotton bra, knickers, stockings and shoes.

"You are so beautiful," he murmured, leaning in to take my lips again.

"Thank you," I whispered softly as his lips tumbled from mine to explore down my neck and beyond.

"I mean it," he lifted his head to meet my eyes with a sincere gaze. "You're as beautiful to me now as the day I married you. Just as beautiful as I found you in all those years I lusted after you and was too much of an idiot to do anything about it."

I smiled at him, curling my arms around his neck to pull his head back down kiss him, long and deep. "We've wasted so much time," I sighed, "let's not waste anymore."

"I don't intend to," he smirked and scooped me up in his arms, perhaps not quite as effortlessly as he'd done 20 years ago, but the grand gesture was there.

Gently, he deposited me on the edge of the luxurious bed and then knelt before me. Gazing into my eyes, the candlelight reflecting in them. He slipped off my practical flat black pumps and tossed them aside, then ran his hands up my legs to remove my stockings. "So soft," he murmured, pulling them down and stroking my skin all the way to my toes, causing me to giggle when it tickled.

He laughed and kissed his way back up my legs, eyes never straying from mine. I expected him to zone in on the obvious, to aim between my legs, but he kissed his way past there and upwards until he reached my lips again, kissing me deeply, passionately, making up for lost kisses as he drank his fill of me. As we kissed I began to unfasten the buttons on his shirt, desperate to touch his skin again, to feel his warmth beneath my fingers and hold him as I hadn't done in far too long.

I had most of them undone and my hands sliding over his shoulders when he pulled back, smiling at me and reached around to unfasten my bra. Thank goodness this was something he was good at these days, because I didn't think I had the patience for the fumbling from his youth. The bra was cast carelessly aside as he sat back on his heals, taking in the view of my near naked body. I felt my skin flush a little at his scrutiny, knowing I wasn't as flawless as I had been as a 20 year old. Not that I had been perfect back then, I had numerous scars from all our battles and escapades.

But, now I also graced a slightly rounder body and stretch marks from carrying our children. Things weren't exactly as perky as they had once been either and I felt a bit self conscious of his gaze, even though I knew he would never find fault with the way I looked, or at least never mention it if he did.

"So beautiful," he murmured in awe, restoring some confidence I was lacking, before lowering his head to flick a nipple with his tongue, causing me to hiss and arch my body towards him. He did the same to the other, his arms encircling my back, rough skin of his hands from work and age rubbing against my skin – strangely I found it arousing. And then his mouth was back on my breasts, his stubble scratchy and enticing against sensitive skin, it wasn't long before he had my grinding my body against him.

His arms let me go and I melted back onto the bed sheets, sprawled out before him as petals stuck to my increasingly perspiring skin whilst he worshipped me. He placed one knee on the bed, hovering above me and I ran my hands down his back, frustrated to find him still clothed, I wanted to feel his skin against mine. I began to tug at his clothing, pulling his shirt from his trousers. He felt what I was trying to do and pulled back momentarily to sling the offending items across the room. My hands slid down his back and I sighed. I had always loved his skin, it's silky smoothness and often sun kissed with freckles against his pale white skin. As someone who tanned easily, his skin had always been something of a novelty to me and something I never tired of seeing. He was almost like one of those famous Muggle marble statues and just as priceless to me.

His tongue licked a trail down my body, until he was back on his knees, on the floor between my legs. My hands finished up in his glorious, handsome ginger locks, still graced with brightness and thickness – thankfully not cursed with his dad's hair genes. I sunk my fingers into his hair when I felt his hands slid between my legs. "So sexy," he murmured before hooking a thumb into each side of my knickers and sliding them down my leg. They went the same way as the rest of our clothing and I had visions of us hunting for articles of our clothing later, only to find them hanging from a lamp or a mirror or something.

I propped myself up on my elbows to be able to see what he was doing, just as his eyes rolled back up to meet mine. His fingers edged closer to where I needed them. Holding my gaze, his blue eyes burning with heat, he smirked, flicked his tongue out to wet his lips and then delved between my thighs. Damn, it had been too long, much, much too long.

As well as the obvious relief of sexual pleasure, it was the connection with him that I had missed most, this intimacy shared between two people who loved and trusted one another. I'd never been with anyone I didn't love, since Ron was my one and only, which was something I had never once regretted, but even I knew that sex with love was something more. Something special and sacred to be shared between just two people.

It wasn't simply the physical sensations, it was about feeling close to him body and soul. Feeling his love pour into my body through every touch, every whisper, every caress. It was about us making one another feel as though they were the most precious thing in the world and that we valued, appreciated and loved each another. And the fact that we hadn't shared this in so long, hadn't connected with one another on this primal level, it had me close to tears. Tears of relief that is, that we hadn't lost this, that we were still able to connect in this way, to feel, to trust. And I simply loved him so much. Love wasn't a powerful enough word when it came to the way I felt about him, but it was all I had.

It wasn't long until he had me screaming his name as he worked my body like a fine instrument he knew well. After all these years we both knew exactly what the other liked and how far we could push it. As the climax hit, I gasped his name, grabbing handfuls of his hair. It really was surprising he hadn't gone bald after all these years with me doing that to him I mused and then giggled to myself.

He looked up, a cocky, yet puzzled look on his face. "That was funny?" he asked, nipping and nuzzling his way back up my body.

I shook my head, a long, lazy smile on my lips as my body slowly came down, little tremors still coursing through me that were requesting more. "It...it wasn't you or that," I panted. "I'm sorry I pulled your hair," I added, smiling when I noticed how it stuck up at all angles from where my fingers had been tugging at it.

He shrugged one shoulder from where he was now hovering over me on outstretched arms and licked his lips – the sight was enough to cause after tremors deep inside. "You always do. And you know I think it's bloody sexy!" he grinned dipping his head and claiming my mouth with his own.

I could taste myself on him, but I didn't care as I kissed him eagerly, wrapping my arms around him until I rolled us over, situating ourselves further onto the bed, until his head rested on a pillow. Staying on top, I sat up to straddle his thighs, trailing my hands down his body, over his naked chest, towards his belly and up again through a soft, scattering of light ginger hairs and raking my nails over nipples that caused him to bite his bottom lip.

"You are so fuckin' sexy," he cursed, his eyes roaming every inch of my body. I smiled at him, pleased to hear that.

"And you're still just as bloody gorgeous," I told him, thumbing a nipple. True, he wasn't as ripped as he'd been whilst Auror training constantly and he'd had to keep in shape more. These days, his mother's tasty cooking, as well as his own, was perhaps adding a few pounds here and there, I noticed he was growing a cute little man belly. But, he was still my Ron. He was still tall and almost as lean as he'd been back when I had married him. He wasn't lazy – his work and the children had always kept him busy and he still liked to get out on his broom for a family game of Quidditch whenever the opportunity arose.

But, it didn't really matter what his body looked like now or how it changed, because I loved _him_ \- not just the way he looked. It was as simple as that. We both might have a few more pounds, have found the odd grey hair or wrinkle, but, to one another we'd always be at our peak and love as though we were. I realised that now. He would always be beautiful and handsome and sexy to me because I loved him, his heart, his soul, his mind, his humour and fierce loyalty. His deep blue eyes and fiery ginger hair – all of the things I had fallen in love with so many years ago.

He was still the same. He would always just be Ron. My husband.

"Whatch'a thinking about?" he asked, sliding a hand up and down my thighs where I knelt with a knee on either side of him.

I laughed at myself. "Just…how handsome you are and how much I love you."

"You're adorable," he took my hand and kissed my knuckles.

"And...that I can't sit like this for long anymore," I groaned, climbing off him and moving to his side.

He laughed at that, rolling towards me and smothering me in kisses. "Guess we _a_ _re_ getting old, huh?"

"Speak for yourself!" I slapped his backside. "And why on earth do you still have any clothes on?" I realised he was only topless. Trousers, socks and underwear still intact.

He flashed his eyes at me. "Someone distracted me with hidden treasures," he teased and I rolled my eyes at him.

"Soon fix that," I muttered, sitting beside him to undo his trousers. I struggled with them for a minute or two, Ron propped up on his elbows, watching me in obvious amusement. "Erm, I could use some help here," I raised an eyebrow at him and waved a hand towards his still half clad body.

"Right, yeah," he muttered through a snigger. "I just thought you were having fun!" he poked his tongue out as he lifted his backside and between us we managed to divest him of his clothing. I pulled each sock off and threw them towards the growing pile of clothes scattering the room.

And I then I looked back, he was laying there now completely naked, rather proudly. Oh yes, he was certainly still a fine specimen of a man. I slithered over him, and, as I kissed him, reached down with my hand to grasp between his legs. He moaned as I stroked him firmly, up and down in a steady rhythm and then groaned when he saw me crawl back down his body, trailing my hair along his skin, and took him between my lips.

"Shit H'mione!" he yelped, his hips bucking upwards. "So good..." he let out a long sigh and dropped his head back into the pillow. "Wait...wait!" he panicked, "that's...too good," he groaned. "H'mione, it's...well it's been awhile and...ohh...I don't know if I can...bollocks!" he cursed when I flicked my tongue against him. "H'mione...you have to...stop!" he hissed.

"It's okay, we have time to, well...this won't be the only chance we have to make love. You said we're staying for a few days, right?" I checked, lifting my head and trailing my fingers along his hard shaft.

"Yeah, but...I just." He blew out a breath of air and then grabbed my hand, stilling my actions. "I... I want to feel you and share this with you. Please love, it's been too long!"

"Very considerate," I whispered, leaning down to kiss him once before rolling to my back, my arms reaching out for him.

He slid between my thighs, kissed me once, twice and then a third time before reaching between us to line himself up and pushed against me. The pair of us moaned in complete satisfaction as our bodies were joined once more, welcoming the familiar sensations we'd grown accustomed to.

"Yes!" I hissed against his ear. "Oh Ron..." I sighed, grasping his shoulders, feeling full in a way I hadn't for too long, loving the weight of his body moving against me.

"You feel incredible..." he muttered. "So fuckin' incredible!" he gasped again when he moved and plunged back inside me.

"Don't hold back, okay? I need you," I murmured against his ear where his head was buried against my neck as he held himself up on his forearms and moved his hips against me. My hands were on his back, running up and down his warm skin, relishing in the feel of him.

Ron curled a hand under my thigh and lifted it over his hip. I wrapped it around his waist, raising the other to join it, the adjustment increasing friction between us. I locked my ankles against his backside as the thrusts became faster, fierce and deep – just the way I liked it when we were this aroused and hungry for one another.

Ron grunted and groaned against me, lifting his head every so often to place soppy wet kisses on my lips, my neck, my breasts, telling me he loved me, that I was beautiful and amazing. I returned his kisses, pulled at his shoulders, raked my nails up and down his back or ran my fingers through his hair as we moved together in perfect synchronism.

There was something to be said for making love to the same man for your whole adult life – we knew one another perfectly, how we moved, what worked, what we liked and we weren't holding back.

"Ron...I love you…" I squealed as my first climax hit me. "Holy mother of Merlin!" I gasped when I realised his pace had never slowed down, leaving me open to a second within seconds. "Ron!" I yelled his name, the second more powerful than the last.

"I...I'm gonna…oh fuck H'mione!" he shouted before he gasped and groaned his way through his orgasm. I brushed back his damp hair and watched his face. I loved to see the expressions he made when he came.

Finally, he stopped moving, panting as he collapsed in my arms and I lowered my legs, feeling deliciously used. Tingles and tremors still passed throughout my body as I held him against me, planting kisses against his head and stroking his soft, damp skin.

After a few moments, mindful of his weight resting on me, he rolled off, gasping for air as he lay on his back, arms and legs outstretched, his body covered in a sheen of sweat. I guess someone had forgotten it was always hotter in the south of France, even in late October. I'd have to find my wand and put a cooling charm on the room before we slept, I considered, before he reached his hand out towards me.

Sighing contently, I nuzzled into his side, laying my head on his chest as his arm encircled my shoulders, hugging me against him. I could still hear his heart pounding against my ear as I drew circles on his skin with my fingertips.

"That was...wow!" he muttered, pressing his lips against the top of my head.

"Uh huh," I had to agree. How had we gone so long without making love like that? "Amazing," I sighed softly, feeling suddenly sleepy and lethargic, not wanting to move from this position. Not wanting to move away from Ron ever again.

These were some of my favourite moments. Just the two of us laying in bed after making love, whispering softly together and snuggling up close as our bodies calmed down from the exertion was something I hadn't realised I'd missed until now.

We lay in serene silence awhile longer, basking in the afterglow and recovering, at least until his stomach growled and I stifled a little chuckle. "Sorry," he muttered, rubbing his belly, "I skipped any lunch to get over here and sort the place out." he added.

"Well, I just hope you remembered to pack some food in that old bag?" I asked hopefully. We'd forgotten that little matter on our honeymoon, with all the excitement of the wedding, and had had to nip out to the local shops early the next day to stock up so we could feed our ravenous appetites from all the excessive exercise.

"What do you think?" he smirked, sliding down in the bed so we were face to face.

"What I think, is that I am lucky to be married to the most amazing husband. And, I also think I've been rather a fool," I sighed, rolling to my back.

"What? Why?" Ron asked, concerned as he leant up on one elbow so he was peering down at me. He smiled when he saw I wasn't in the least covered up and began to run his fingers over my dampened, perspiring skin.

"Because I was thinking our marriage was in trouble. I thought...well I thought you might leave me or something..."

"Never!" he interrupted me with a distressed snarl.

I placed a hand on his cheek to calm him. "I realise now how stupid I've been, all we had to do is talk to one another to sort everything out. Ron, promise me something?" I asked him emphatically, leaning up on my own elbow so I could meet his gaze.

"I'll try," he promised, a quick kiss to the lips.

"If anything is ever bothering you, and I mean anything. If you're upset for any reason...even if I'm the reason, please talk to me. Tell me how you feel, okay? Because, we can't work things out if we keep things bottled up."

"Okay," he agreed. "But you need to remember to do the same. I reckon we're too old and have been through too much together to lose what we have now."

"Yes," I agreed with him, snuggling up to him again as he took me in his arms. "Though, less of the old Mr Weasley!" I giggled as I tapped his naked backside. "You and I, I think we'd just gone a little...crooked, a little off track for awhile there. But, we weren't broken at all."

"Of course not. I'll always love you, Hermione," he sighed contently, squeezing me in his arms.

"As I'll always love you." I raised my head and kissed his lips. "We're still going to be together when we're old and grey, driving each other crazy, surrounded by grand babies and great-grand babies, just like your parents. You have reminded me that we can make it through anything life throws at us. We'll make this work, right? For always?"

"Right, always," he nodded in agreement with me, kissing my head again. "And without any bloody marriage counsellors, yeah?"

I chuckled. "No marriage counsellors, I promise," I held up my hand solemnly, knowing how much he'd hated that idea. "I'd say we we're doing fine just by ourselves anyway," I smiled at him, before moving my body over his and kissing him again.

Ron threaded his fingers through my hair, cradling my head in his hands as he pulled me down against him, body against body, skin against skin, our lips locked together in a heated kiss. He gathered me up in his big arms and rolled us across the bed as the sweetness turned hotter, his hands sliding down to grasp my backside, making me jerk against him. My body ridiculously ached for him again, aroused by the taste and scent of my husband.

Taking my lips in another sizzling kiss, he rolled us again. My hands were all over him – caressing his arse, his back, grasping his biceps and running fingers through his hair. A knee slipped between his thighs, rubbing my leg against his crotch, making him grunt and hiss against my mouth.

"I'm sorry you ever doubted my feelings for you," he suddenly spoke when his lips tumbled from mine and marked pathways down my neck – nipping and sucking the delicate skin. "I'm sorry if I don't tell you I love you often enough," his voice came out muffled until he finally raised his head. "I just...I thought you knew. I thought it was obvious," he shrugged rather sheepishly.

"Oh Ron," I sighed his name and kissed him again. "You do and it is. I should know you love me, let's just agree that these last few weeks I've been...a bit mental!" I laughed.

Ron laughed loudly as he rolled onto his back again. "My mental wife!" he laughed, finding the idea ludicrous. "As if!" he scoffed. He squirmed on the bed then, a frown marring his gorgeous face. "You know what else though?" he asked me.

"What?" I smiled down at him.

"I reckon these bloody rose petals were a bad idea," he grimaced again.

"Why? I think they're romantic." I picked up a couple and scattered them onto his chest.

"Yeah, maybe so. But, I'm pretty sure I got some of them lodged up my arse," he squirmed again, reaching a hand around to sort out the problem.

"Ron!" I spluttered with laughter and shook my head. "I love that you still make me laugh. Don't ever change!" I giggled, watching his face contort as he shuffled his backside around on the bed.

Chuckling to myself still, I climbed from the bed and wandered over to our things. "Where you going?" he almost whined.

"Just looking for my wand," I told him, moving some clothes aside in my search,

"Why?" he sat up against the headboard, brushing more rose petals from the bed.

"Because," I tossed my robes aside and successfully located my wand, picking it up and holding it up in the air triumphantly. "Because," I began again, "if we're heading for round two here, then we need a damn good cooling charm cast on this room," I wiped the sweat from my forehead.

Ron grinned from the bed. "Bloody brilliant you are! I knew I married you for more than your amazing tits!" he teased me as I quickly cast the charm, the relief from the heat was instant. "Whilst you're up," he started before I climbed back into bed, "grab the bag," he pointed to where he'd tossed it onto the dressing table just inside the room.

I grabbed it as asked and returned to the bed, placing my wand for easy reach on the bedside table as I handed the bag to him. He took it and began to dig around in it.

"If we _are_ going for another round, then I need to refuel," his stomach growled again as if on cue, agreeing with him. "And," he grinned when he found what he was looking for, "I packed some lunch in here, intending to eat it later. Not had chance yet." He pulled out the package victoriously.

I laughed as he began to unwrap sandwiches. I leant over to kiss his cheek. "I knew I married you for more than your fine arse," I grinned as he passed me a sandwich and we sat there, naked in bed together, enjoying our impromptu picnic.

The pair of us seemingly back on the same track.

* * *

 _The next and final chapter will be a bit late, because I am off to Watford (London) on Sunday for a couple of days for my annual trip to the Harry Potter studio tour – shall try to get the chapter up on Wednesday or Thursday!_

 _And then I have a special little Christmas fanfic to post the week after...if you're all nice to me with lots of reviews :p_


	7. Chapter 7

_Sorry this is a little late – busy time of year! Had a great day at the Harry Potter studios on Monday (my 7th visit) seeing Hogwarts in the snow, in the actual snow!_

 _Anyway, here is my final chapter of this little story. Thank you so very, very much for all the incredible reviews – you really do make me smile. I shall get back to you all personally (if you're logged in) but it might not be until after the Holidays now._

 _See below for a little note on what's next :)_

 _Usual disclaimers apply._

* * *

 **Chapter Seven**

"And here comes Gryffindor's most promising chaser this season, Rose Granger-Weasley, whizzing down the pitch. Look at the girl go! She's in possession of the quaffle. Ooh, nice dodging of a bludger there. She shoots, and…YES!" The commentator screamed as the crowds erupted. "Gryffindor score! Gryffindor in the lead with 60 points to 20!"

"Yes! Yes!" Ron was jumping up and down in the stands. "Did you see that?" he was literally yelling in my face. "That's my girl! That's my little girl!" he was screaming excitedly for everyone to hear as he pumped his fist in the air.

"Yes, sweetheart,"I rolled my eyes at him. "But...calm down," I patted his chest as the other parents were watching him in amusement, especially Harry and Ginny who were stood beside us. Rose glanced over as she zoomed past on her broom and shook her head. "You're going to embarrass her," I reminded him.

"Never mind her, he's embarrassing me!" Ginny muttered as she tugged up the hood on her cloak, hiding her flaming red hair. Harry laughed.

"Oh, yeah. Right, right," he nodded to himself and stopped dancing, but still had the biggest grin on his face. "Did you see her though?" he asked me.

I nodded. "I saw her. She is incredible. Though I don't know where she gets the talent from," I teased him.

"Maybe her talented aunt?" Ginny suggested in a loud whisper.

Ron shot us both a disgruntled look before refocusing on the game. Although I was intently watching too, happy to see my daughter in her element and being a supportive mother, Quidditch still wasn't my thing. I watched it to support those I loved. Mostly I was excited to see our children after the match. Ron though, was enthralled and I had to smile at him – he was so damn proud of our daughter.

"Oi!" he yelled then. "Watch out Rosie! That bloody git!" he huffed as one of the beaters from Ravenclaw hit a bludger her way. "Rose!" he yelled, "behind you!"

"Ron, she's seen it. She knows how to play," I told him, trying to get him to calm down. I shared a look with Ginny who rolled her eyes behind her brothers back. Rose was never going to let us come to another match again at this rate!

"Bet he wasn't this concerned when I was playing, was he?" Ginny asked me.

I just shook my head and sighed, hoping for a quick game. Harry reached behind his wife and patted my arm, commiserating with me.

"Where's your son?" Ron then demanded of Harry, referring to James. "He's supposed to be keeping those bloody bludgers off his own team!"

"Which he is doing, if you watched anyone play other than Rose. Look," Harry pushed his glasses back up his nose as he nodded towards the pitch just as James whacked a bludger. Harry was proud his eldest son had made the team, obviously. But, I think a small part of him was a little disappointed he hadn't followed in his fathers footsteps and become a seeker. Still, James was a very good beater.

"Soddin' toe rag! Trying to hurt my baby girl on purpose," Ron was still fuming and glaring at the beater playing for Ravenclaw.

"Ron, its part of the game, remember?" I sighed.

"Not when it comes to my daughter. Oh, she dodged it. Thank Merlin for that!" he breathed a sigh of relief. "Nice movie Rosie!" he yelled and then got excited again when she had hold of the quaffle once more.

I sighed and shook my head at his antics. He was endearing, but if this was going to be a long game, Ron might give himself an aneurysm before it was over, if wizards could suffer from such a thing.

Finally, after another half hour of teenagers rapidly zooming around the pitch, balls flying here and there and much bellowing from the crowd (most of which I suspected came from my own husband and brother-in-law) the Gryffindor seeker - a tiny, olive skinned girl, caught the snitch. Making Gryffindor's final total 240 points, to Ravenclaw's mere 80.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!" Ron was pumping his fist again as he jumped up and down in time with his cheering. "She won! She won!" he shouted and picked me up, spinning me around in his excitement, before planting a big kiss on my lips.

"Ron! People are watching," I reminded him, shooting little glances left and right and saw people whispering and giving us sly looks.

"Gross!" Ginny shook her head and pretended to be sick.

Ron stuck his tongue out at his sister, behaving very immaturely. "Like I care! Our daughter won the match!"

"I believe her _team_ won, sweetheart," I laughed at him as Harry and Ginny were about to protest their son's merit towards the team as well. "Come on, let's go down to the pitch now," I told him when I saw other people doing the same. "I can see Hugo running over already. And, remember," I grasped his wrist to pull him back, "do not embarrass them, be cool!" I warned him before letting him go. "Though, you've probably already done that," I added under my breath as he charged down the stairs.

Rose was celebrating their win with her fellow Gryffindors, laughing, grinning and cheering with her friends amidst much back slapping going on. I had to hold Ron back, otherwise he'd have been in the middle of things too, probably hoisting Rose up on his shoulders or something.

"Hi Mum, Hi Dad!" Hugo panted after his race across the pitch and grinned up at us.

"Hello my darling," I gushed at seeing the perfect mini image of his father again after so long. Seven weeks seemed such a long time to be away from your own child.

"Mum!" he whined, checking over his shoulder to see if anyone had overheard.

"But it's so good to see you, sweetheart. We've missed you. Are you okay? How is school going?" I continued, ignoring his protests.

"Hey kid," Ron ruffled his son's mop of messy ginger hair.

"Dad! Ger'off!" He shoved Ron's hands away as he attempted to brush his hair back down, already exposing hints of the tell tale Weasley blush across his cheeks. "Rose said you promised not to embarrass us," he grumbled, kicking the grass with his toe.

"I'm sorry Hugo. It's just...it's good to see you," I beamed at my baby boy.

"Yeah, we've missed you loads," Ron added. "The house is much too quiet without my partner in crime," he laughed. Hugo looked a little embarrassed, but also pleased to hear he was so missed. I think, for a while before he'd started school, Hugo had been worried we'd forget about him or be glad he was out of our hair or something.

Giving in to his urge and forgetting that he was surrounded by his peers and schoolteachers, he suddenly flung his arms around his Dad and then myself. "I missed you too," he mumbled.

I smiled over Hugo's head at Ron as I hugged my son, only realising in that moment just how much I missed both of our children and how much I hated them being away. "Well, only a few more weeks and you'll both be home for Christmas," I promised as he pulled back from us.

He nodded silently, looking a little sad and I wondered if he was still struggling with his homework. I'd have to try and help him, I couldn't let my little boy struggle.

"I told you no hugging!" Rose had finally left her friends and was sauntering over to us, her broomstick – an early birthday present before the start of term – over her shoulder.

"There's my awesome girl!" Ron bellowed.

"Dad!" she whined and covered her face with her hand in humiliation.

"We were doing as we were told, Rose. Hugo chose to hug us first," I informed our daughter, itching to get my arms around her too. At 14 she thought she was so grown up now, but she'd always be my little girl.

She bit her lip for a moment, a characteristic of my own she had inherited, and then glanced around at all the other students now talking to their parents and how most of them were hugging, including Harry and Ginny with their brood. She seemed to think better of it and suddenly threw herself into our arms. Ron grinned triumphantly as he delighted in hugging his kids. I'd always known he was an incredible father from the moment Rose had been born, but seeing him so happy with them again, really touched me. He would do anything for them.

"Congratulations on winning, sweetheart," I told her as the too brief hugs were done with. "You were so good," I beamed, proudly.

"Good?" Ron asked, affronted. "She was more than good! You're bloody amazing Rosie, incredible. The best on the team!" he boasted loudly.

"Dad!" she hissed, a blush rising up her neck, yet she beamed with happiness at his praise.

"I'm afraid your father got a little excited watching you," I smiled at them, my arm casually around my son's shoulder. I took it as a good sign that he wasn't shrugging me off.

"Yes, I saw," she rolled her eyes. "Really Dad? Dancing?"

"Well, I can't help it when my daughter has so much talent. Honestly, I reckon you'll be following in your Aunt Ginny's footsteps," he declared with pride.

"You think so?" her eyes widened and a smile grew on her face. She hadn't decided what she wanted to do once she left school – she had changed her mind as often as the weather from about the age of six. But, apparently being a professional Quidditch player was now a new option.

"Yes!" Ron nodded, earnestly. "You've got the talent for it. Got to keep your practice up and..."

"But don't forget to study and do your best with your homework," I added.

"Oh Mum!" she laughed, sharing a look with her Dad.

Ron, catching the look I gave him, cleared his throat. "Your Mum's right, need to keep on top of your school work too and..."

Rose just laughed at him, knowing he was only saying that so I didn't get upset with him.

Whilst they enthusiastically began dissecting the game, I pulled Hugo aside and asked if he was doing okay with his school work now. "There's no shame in asking for help, sweetheart. Just ask your father." I smiled over at him, the big grin on his face as he chatted with his daughter about his favourite subject – well besides food and, something more intimate that I hoped he'd never discuss with her.

"Oh, it's fine now Mum," he mumbled. "I just, I got a bit confused with Potions, but then Lily said she was struggling too, so we went to library together and worked it out."

"That's my boy," I smiled, just as proud of him for sorting out his own academic struggle as I was with Rose playing an exceptional game. "Is Potions the only one you've been struggling with?" I checked, wanting to make sure he was doing okay – he never told me much in his occasional letters.

He shrugged. "Yeah. I mean, Transfiguration is a bit hard, but, I did okay on my last homework. And Astronomy is so boring," he muttered.

I smiled and patted his shoulder, wanting to hug him again, but also not wanting to show him up any further. It was tough enough being a first year as it was. "You'll be fine sweetheart. You've only been here a few weeks, but it will all start to make sense once you settle in more. Though, if you need help, please ask someone. Send me an owl if you feel you can't ask anyone at school, there is really no need to struggle."

"I know Mum. I'm fine, I like being here now. Professor Longbottom is pretty cool." he grinned. "He's been showing me some great plants. One of them lives on troll bogies, did you know that?" he laughed.

"No, I didn't," I smiled at him indulgently, pleased to hear he was settling in. "That sounds, erm...lovely!"

"Yeah," he was nodding, a big grin on his face now. "And Hagrid is hilarious. He invited me and a friend for tea last weekend. Kieran thought it was so cool that I knew him."

"I'm glad to hear that. I knew you'd be all right," I smiled, filled with pride once again. We had certainly been blessed with two amazing kids and I loved and missed them dearly. "Now, your Dad and I have a bit of surprise for you both," I smiled over at Ron as Rose turned to look at me at the mention of a surprise.

"Please tell me you're not having another baby?" She looked absolutely horrified at the thought.

"What?" I spluttered, sharing a look with Ron over their heads. "Why would you...what on earth makes you think..."

Rose huffed rather loudly. "Jayne Fielding, in my dorm room, she got a letter from home the other day and her Mum told her she's pregnant again! But, her mum's so old! It's just gross!" she pulled a face at the very idea.

"Thanks, love!" Ron pulled a face back at her. "I'll have you know that your Mum and I are not too old. But, don't worry – there are no babies planned for us." He looked towards me and met my eyes in a secret smile. There might have been a moment of panic back in France when I realised I hadn't taken my contraceptive potion. It was all sorted now and no harm done, though we had briefly toyed with the idea if another baby were to come along, but then quickly agreed we were happy with the children we already had and had no need to start again with an infant at this point in our lives. "Although..."

"Don't even think about it!" Rose and Hugo warned us at the same time – the pair of them in sync.

"Your Dad is just teasing you," I smiled at our children. "Don't worry, you two are all we need."

"Phew!" Rose sighed and Hugo laughed.

"What we were going to say though, is that your Head Mistress has given us permission to take you into Hogsmeade for dinner, so..."

"Yes!" Hugo whispered, excitedly. Probably more to do with the fact he got to visit Hogsmeade than having dinner with his Mum and Dad though.

"Oh..." Rose looked torn, glancing over her shoulder towards the castle, where most of her team mates and house were heading back to already.

"I know, the cool victory party in the common room," Ron nodded, understanding why she was torn as he remembered parties of the past we'd enjoyed in the common room.

"It's okay, we know you want to be with your friends," I assured her. "Which is why we're going to go visit with Hagrid and Neville for a couple of hours. So, you can still enjoy your party."

"Yes! Thanks!" she grinned, giving us both big hugs again. I perhaps held onto her a little longer than she liked.

"So, you can have fun at the party, then we can go out for a family dinner. In about two hours?" I checked my watch and asked Ron his opinion.

He nodded. "Yeah, meet us in the Entrance Hall in two hours and we'll all go into Hogsmeade together. We have to get you back before curfew," he sighed. I knew it was going to hard for us both to say goodbye to them again.

"Okay!" Rose grinned, jumping about now, eager to go. "We'll see you in a bit," she was already backing away from us, jogging backwards towards the castle.

"And make sure you shower, sweetheart!" I called after her.

She turned and scoffed at me as Hugo ran to catch up with her. "See you in a bit!" he called back.

"And don't be late, 'cause I'm hungry!" Ron added, making them both laugh. Ron's never satisfied stomach was a long standing joke amongst all the family.

Once they were out of sight, he turned and took my hand, giving me a smile before we followed after Ginny and Harry who were already wandering down the trail leading to Hagrid's hut. He should be expecting all of us, since we'd owled him, and Neville was going to meet us there once he had seen his students safely back inside the castle.

The last few days for Ron and I in France had been perfect and idyllic. We'd spent hours just talking, making love and snuggling together on the sofa. But we'd also ventured out for dinner a couple of nights, taken moonlit strolls along the beach, wandered through the local market and spent a lazy afternoon or two swimming in the sea. It had been exactly what we'd needed to reconnect, to find one another again and re-establish our relationship.

We had both agreed that this was something we should do on an annual basis at least. Now that we were free for much of the year and we could afford it, we realized that we deserved some time away on our own just to enjoy quality time spent together and a chance to recharge. Holidays with the children were fun and glorious and happy, but...they were anything but restful.

Right now, the pair of us were happier than we'd been in a long time, much more settled together again and, so long as we both continued to work on this once we got back home and into our routines again, I knew we were going to be just fine.

* * *

Our visit with Hagrid was enjoyable. He was thrilled to see us, overly excited even as we reminisced about old times, caught up on one another's lives and heard all about his latest creatures. Neville had managed to pop in for a cup of tea with us all and it was almost like old times again. You know, apart from the most evil dark wizard ever not trying to kill us around every corner any longer! Ron and I thanked both Neville and Hagrid for helping Hugo to settle in - the pair of them assured me that it was no bother and that he was a good kid. Thankfully we had the excuse of going out for dinner soon and not wanting to spoil our appetites to turn down the offer of his infamous rock cakes. which, alarmingly, looked even worse than they had when we'd been in school!

"I think we should get a dog," Ron suddenly blurted out as we made our way back up to the castle.

"We should what?" I stopped walking to look at him.

"A dog. I want to get a dog," he repeated, stopping to turn and look where I was when my hand tugged on his.

"Ron? A dog? Really?" I sighed.

He shrugged. "Yeah, I mean, you know I've always wanted one. And, it would be company for me on the nights you have to work late or something and...oh come on Hermione," he called after me when I started walking away.

"A dog Ron?" I shook my head, dubiously. Why was he springing this on me now? Just when we were getting settled again.

"Yes, a dog." He jogged to catch up with me. "Just a small one of course. And I'd want to get a boy so I can call it Chudley," he grinned. Obviously this wasn't just some passing fancy if he'd thought that much about it already.

"Dogs take a lot of looking after, you know," I pointed out, as though I was explaining this to one of the children.

"I know that," he rolled his eyes at me. "You wouldn't have to do anything, he'd be my dog so I'd look after him." He gave me a hopeful grin as he slipped his hand back into mine. "I can walk him every day after work. And, during the day, he can come to work with me. I can set up a basket and stuff for him in my office or the stock room or something. He wouldn't be a problem. Come on Hermione..." he whined, exactly the way our daughter had learnt to do when she wanted something. I wonder where she got that particular trait from?

I sighed, wondering if it would be such a bad idea. A dog in the family. I knew the children would go crazy for the idea. I also knew Ron was much more responsible these days, though he had always looked after his animals – even that damn rat! And, if he'd thought about this enough to choose a name for it and what would happen to it when we were both at work, I knew it was something he really wanted. Could I deny him that? A companion when I was late at work? Besides, I might be nice to have another patter of feet...paws, around the house. It had been years since my beloved Crookshanks had passed away, and Chicken wasn't exactly great company these days.

I sighed deeply, knowing that I was going to give in to him. "Listen, we'll talk about this more when we get home. But, not a word of this to the children yet!" I warned him, not wanting a battle of three against one to fight.

"Great!" he beamed at me, knowing he was going to get what he wanted.

We stood just inside the Entrance Hall, waiting for our children as other students were beginning to file into the Great Hall for dinner. We received many curious glances and a few whispers and pointing. As well as a steady stream of nieces and nephews surprised to see us there and come over to say hello or give us a hug.

"It is _so_ weird being back here," Ron commented as he waved to Freddie on his way into dinner.

"I know. It's been so long, yet it all looks exactly the same," I sighed, glancing around at all the familiar stone work, the paintings, tapestries and, mounted on the wall where it had always been, the house points hourglasses.

Ron nodded. "Looks like Slytherin are cheating again!" he grunted, nodding his head towards the hourglass full of emeralds, well in the lead.

"Just because they have more points, does not mean they're cheating. Not all Slytherin's are like that, they're much friendlier these days. Don't forget our own nephew is a Slytherin and he's not awful," I reminded him.

"Harry might beg to differ sometimes," Ron muttered under his breath.

"Just because Albus and James fight…"

"Mum! Dad!"

My reply in defence of our nephew, was interrupted by our son running towards us, looking excited probably by the idea of his visit to Hogsmeade.

"I told my mate Kieran that I was going for dinner in Hogsmeade. He's so jealous!" he grinned, bouncing on his feet, eager to get going.

Ron laughed and put his arm around his son's shoulder. "So he should be. Not every kid gets special treatment!"

"Ron, honestly!" I sighed. "You'll give him the wrong idea. Where's your sister?" I asked Hugo, resisting the urge to reach out and tidy his hair.

"Oh, she's coming. I think," he scratched his head, totally unconcerned as he glanced over his shoulder.

Finally, I saw her red hair bobbing along as she chatted with her friends. She looked up, saw us standing there and gave a sigh before saying goodbye to the girls. "Hey," she looked up at us, "can we go now?" she looked over her shoulder.

"You're not embarrassed to be seen with your old man, are ya?" Ron nudged her playfully.

"Dad! Oh Merlin!" she muttered under her breath, mortified as she lowered her head. In some ways, her behaviour made me smile, it reminded me a little of myself at that awkward stage of my life. In others, it made me sad – my little baby was growing up. She still had her moments of sweetness, but mostly she was becoming a rather sullen teenager.

"Come on then. Let's go," I nodded my head at Ron and we all filed out of the castle, heading for the village.

Thankfully, the Three Broomsticks wasn't too busy tonight, so we easily got a table. Once we decided what we wanted, Ron went up to the bar and ordered, returning shortly with a glass of wine each for us and bottles of Butterbeer for the Rose and Hugo. As he sat down, he kissed my cheek and slid his hand on top of mine across the table.

Rose, ever vigilant, eyed us both warily. "What's up with you two?" she asked us abruptly.

"Nothing! Why?" I replied.

She shrugged. "You're just...being weird," she shrugged.

"Weird?" Ron repeated. "You might have to be a bit more specific there Rosie Posie," he laughed.

She huffed in annoyance and brushed her hair from her face. "It's just Rose, Dad. Rosie Posie is so childish!" she rolled her eyes. "And, I meant weird 'cause you're both being all… mushy and stuff." She glared at our joined hands.

"We're just happy," I smiled at Ron.

"And in love with each other," he added.

"Eurgh!" Rose uttered as Hugo pretended he was going to be sick.

"Yuck!" he poked his tongue out.

"Yeah, well you'd best get used to it. Because, we've decided it's time your Mum and I spend a bit more time together now you're both away. So, expect much more of this in the future," Ron warned her as he leant over and kissed my cheek again.

"Revolting!" she muttered under her breath and slid down in her seat, as though trying to crawl under the table.

"You'll understand one day, darling," I assured her.

"I doubt it," she scoffed and then frowned at me, leaning across the table, before shrieking, "What in Merlin's name is that!" She was pointing to my neck.

My hand flew up to rub my neck, expecting a bug to be crawling on me or something – hardly surprising after spending a couple of hours with Hagrid I suppose. But I felt nothing.

"What? Where?" Ron asked, looking as well, though perhaps a little hesitantly, fearing it may be a spider.

"That! There!" she pointed again. "Oh Merlin's pants!" she hissed angrily. "Please tell me that is not a love bite?" She looked absolutely appalled, as though she were the parent who had just caught the kids doing something obscene. "For the love of...! That is just...that is so disgusting Mum! Eurgh!" She actually shuddered.

Hugo was laughing hysterically by this point.

I frowned and was still touching my neck, wondering what on earth she was on about. I certainly hadn't noticed anything when I'd got dressed this morning. Ron pulled the collar of my jumper aside and then his eyes widened in alarm. "Erm...oops!" he gulped. "Sorry," he apologised, obviously fighting back giggles.

"You didn't!" I glared at him, covering my neck with my hand and hitching my collar up, now rather embarrassed.

"You two are unbelievable!" she muttered, slinking lower in her chair again.

"I think it's hilarious!" Hugo laughed, the mortified expression on both of his parents faces obviously amusing him more.

"It's not funny Hugo! Don't you get it? Mum and Dad have been acting like...like..." she struggled to find the word she wanted.

"A happily married couple?" I supplied for her.

"Huh!" she rolled her eyes sharply. "I'm not ever getting married!" she announced.

"Great idea!" Ron agreed. I knew he dreaded the day his little girl began to show any interest in dating boys. A day that I hated to tell I didn't think would be too far away, if the truth was known.

"Anyway, you've seen us kissing and being affectionate before," I pointed out. They used to grumble about it all the time at home. Ron sometimes did it on purpose to wind them up.

"Not in public!" Rose muttered under her breath.

"Not really seen you be all soppy in ages," Hugo commented innocently.

"You haven't?" I asked Hugo, sadly, ignoring his sister for the moment.

He shook his head. "Nope. I just thought old people didn't kiss as much," he shrugged and slurped his drink.

"Less of the old, son!" Ron lightly tapped him on the top of his head with a menu.

Hugo laughed. "Well, you are!" he poked his tongue out. "And now you're both being really mushy again, which is kind of gross!" he complained, sharing a look with his sister across the table.

"It is not gross," I sighed. "Surely it's good to know that your father and I still love one another? Isn't that better than us fighting or something? Besides, it's nice to show affection. One day, you'll be in here kissing your significant others and..."

"Not for many, many more years mind!" Ron warned and I knew he wasn't joking.

Rose huffed and picked up her glass. ""Not likely!" she muttered.

"What? Not even with..." Hugo began and then jumped as he yelped and grabbed his ankle. I suspected Rose had kicked him under the table. So, it seemed our daughter did have some secrets, I smiled to myself.

"Just...make sure there are no babies!" she grumbled. "Because that is just..." she shook her head.

"Promise, no babies." Ron assured her, peering under the table to see why Hugo yelped. "But...we are probably going to get a dog," he announced when he sat back up.

Both Rose and Hugo's faces lit up. "Really?" Rose gasped, her attitude changing instantly.

"Ron," I hissed, "I said we'd talk about..."

"Yes," Ron was nodding at his children, ignoring me. He just knew he was going to win this one

"Can we get a girl?" Rose began enthusiastically. "And we can call her Honey and…

"No, get a boy. Girls are stupid, apart from you Mum," Hugo added charitably.

"Gee thanks!" I sighed as I watched them all getting excited about the idea of a family dog and I knew when I was beaten. Besides, looking at their happy, smiley faces and the way they were all animatedly talking about it, fighting over who was going to get to walk it and look after it and everything, how could I deny them? Well, so long as they didn't name it something ridiculous, like cow or sheep!

Ron looked at me as the children argued over the dog's name, giving me a rather smug grin and I nudged his shoulder with a little smile. He laughed and flung his arm around my shoulder, I relaxed against him contently. We were going to be just fine, Ron and I, there was absolutely nothing to worry about between us at all.

I knew that Ron and I would never be the perfect couple and I didn't want us to be – that's what made life interesting and challenging – more like a roller-coaster than a merry-go-round at a Muggle funfair. I also knew that there would be many more marital spats in our future, as well as times when he infuriated me or I unintentionally upset him. But above all that, I knew we were able to survive through anything. Because, the basis for our marriage was love, trust and friendship – the three most important ingredients needed in any lasting relationship. I realised that Ron and I had that in abundance.

I smiled to myself as I looked around the table at the three most important people in my world - my family. These three people were my entire life.

And that life was extremely precious.

* * *

 _And there you have it...hope you enjoyed it :) Thank you all again and I look forward to hearing what you make of the end of it – I feel Ron and Hermione will never be the perfect, traditional couple – they're not those kind of people. But, they'll make it work their own way and be damn good about it!_

 _So, next week, whenever I manage to get it sorted so not sure what day yet, I'm going to post a very short one shot Festive themed story as a thank you to you all! Look out for it!_

 _x_


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